Training Days
by financebabe
Summary: RangeMan received a complaint about their services causing Ranger to enlist Stephanie to help train his men in areas that are lacking. Along the way she not only strengthens her relationships with the guys but learns more about herself and what she wants. A Babe HEA.
1. The Power of a Well Written Letter

_Once again all the characters below belong to JE. _

_Jenny (JenRar), here we go again! Thank you for agreeing to work on this story as the beta. I owed you a Babe story, and I hope this one will clear that debt._

**Chapter 1 – The Power of a Well Written Letter**

I walked into Ranger's office and cleared my throat to get his attention. I figured he already knew I was there because…well, he's Batman and he knows everything. Still, it was the kind of thing I wished the guys would do to alert me of their presence when they sneak up on me.

Without looking up, he said, "Can you shut the door, Babe?"

Obediently, I closed the door softly and then sat in one of the guest chairs across from his desk.

As soon as my jeans hit the buttery soft leather of the chair, he looked up at me and smiled. It wasn't one of those full throttle ones that made me feel like anything combustible was at risk of going up in flames, but it was still enough to make me feel warm and gooey on the inside. Kind of like a Cinnabun at the mall when they first come out of the oven and get smeared with creamy icing. I made a mental note to swing by the food court at the mall after we were done here. I could do with a little creamy icing after being shut up in an office this close to a smiling Ranger.

"Babe..." His voice cut through my fog and let me know at least part of what I'd hoped was an inner monologue had somehow slipped into an external speech.

I shook my head in an attempt to clear it and to reset it on why I was here. "Sorry." An apology was always a good place to start.

"For what?" He seemed suspicious of my word choice.

"You said you wanted to meet with me the day after Brett has to go to the hospital with a stab wound from a take down at a distraction. I figured you wanted to talk to me about getting another of your guys hurt," I said simply, laying it out there and confessing why I thought I was here.

In truth, I wasn't entirely sure, but ever since I'd run into him at the bond's office this morning, my mind had been running rampant. I'd been sharing a box of doughnuts with the girls when Ranger had come out of Vinnie's office. He'd walked over to me and used the pad of his thumb to wipe off a little sugar from my bottom lip, and then he'd slowly raised that same finger to his lips and licked off the stolen icing. Sex on legs was as close as I could get to describing that man, but even those words didn't do him justice. Before I'd been able to ask why he was allowing a gram of sugar into his temple, he'd asked me if I could swing by his office sometime today, because there was something he wanted to talk to me about. I'd nodded that I could, and then he'd practically disappeared. Ever since that encounter, I'd wondered what he needed that he couldn't just pull me into the alley to discuss. Honestly, I was rather disappointed that I hadn't gotten an invitation into the alley for him to ask about me coming to RangeMan. I'd never turn down an opportunity to be pressed into the brick wall by Ranger.

"I'll keep that in mind," Ranger interrupted my thoughts to interject, "but Brett isn't why I wanted to meet with you today."

My mind began flying through all the other possibilities before landing on the one I thought was the most obvious. "If this is about Bobby, I didn't realize he was trying to get a look at my shoulder, so when he touched me, I reacted. If I'd known it was him, I never would have thrown an elbow like that."

That little confession caused a slight grin to come over Ranger's face. "That's not why I wanted to talk to you, either, although I am glad to hear that you got one over on Bobby. I'm sure he'll love it when I ask about his slow reflexes in the gym tomorrow."

"His slow reflexes?" I repeated as a question. "Maybe it's that my reflexes are getting so much faster, he can't keep up with me," I pointed out as a reasonable alternative.

Wisely, Ranger only raised an eyebrow as a challenge, saying nothing to contradict my words. "Actually, I wanted you here because I need your help."

Ah, a distraction. Now it made sense. Although he usually just called me and left the details in my voicemail. Maybe this skip was a little worse than the usual so he wanted to brief me himself. Anytime I used the word brief in the same sentence as Ranger, it always made me smile. Those words didn't belong together, because Ranger wasn't a briefs – boxer or bikini – kind of guy. Of course, the image of Ranger wearing a banana hammock only made me smile bigger, so I raised my hand over my mouth in a weak attempt to cover up my amusement.

"Do I want to know what you're thinking about?" Ranger asked, looking amused even without a smile.

"Probably not," I confessed, glad he didn't seem to be pressing the point further.

Then he changed the subject before I had the chance to embarrass myself. "I got this letter in the mail yesterday," Ranger said, passing along a piece of heavy stationary, with a dark, fancy, handwritten script covering the linen page.

I looked at him, basically asking permission to read the letter without using words.

The left side of his lips raised, as though he were enjoying my attempt at ESP. "I wouldn't have given it to you if I didn't want you to read it," he assured me, making a gesture for me to take the paper and look it over.

Realizing he was sharing something important, I sat up straighter and held the paper tightly to be sure I didn't drop it.

_Mr. Manoso,_

_For years, I have heard about the amazing man my husband referred to as Ranger. His praise for your skills had built you up in my mind to be a security expert capable of handling any circumstance and blending in to meet any challenge, no matter how great or small it seemed. It was for this reason that I turned to your firm, assuming your personal standards would surely be passed along to any men you hired and branded with your name. The event of a baby shower might have seemed to inconsequential to merit your finest men, but I still expected more than what was delivered in the name of RangeMan._

_Attending this event were five wives of foreign dignitaries, the child of a former president, and the current Secretary of State. While I had not shared the guest list with you in advance, I felt that your exacting standards would deliver regardless of who was involved, so the privacy of my guests was not important. Perhaps I was remiss in that assumption. I also admit that not sharing the layout of the venue beforehand might have contributed to the expectation of how you would secure a group meeting in a hotel. We only had access to the room where we were meeting, which meant some of your men were forced to be in the room with us, instead of at the outer perimeter as they had no doubt planned on being. Additionally, the very short notice you were given might have meant we were given men who perhaps would not have been your first choice had you been more fully briefed in what was going to be expected._

_However, on the off chance you have not heard about what occurred, I wanted to be sure you were aware that over the course of the four hours my event covered, I witnessed my guests being glowered at by men dressed in all black. The presence of the men along the wall of the room created a heaviness that did not blend well with the occasion we were there to celebrate. And as my guests left, the husband of one of them was forcibly detained by your men until they verified his identity. I'm sure the ambassador will calm down in time, especially since we're putting so much effort into working on relations between America and Panama._

_While I am certainly not interested in retaining your services again after the disastrous event, I know that the circle of friends that my husband travels in all hold you in high esteem, and as a result, you will undoubtedly receive additional invitations to provide security for their families. I write this out of a kindness for my friends that between now and your next service engagement, you might work with your men in softening their approach and finding a middle ground to protect without frightening the people you are being paid to serve._

She'd signed her name beneath a closing of _Regretfully_.

I set the letter down and looked at Ranger. He was staring at the paper as though he could frighten it into giving up the secret of what had happened at the party to upset this woman enough that she would write a personal letter to him to complain about his company.

"I'm guessing you don't get many letters like that, do you?" I decided to start near the letter, but not directly with it.

"I've been doing security in one form or another since my initial tour of duty finished. During all that time, I've never gotten a handwritten letter complaining about my services," he explained, obviously taking this disgruntled customer to heart.

"Then in that case, your average is fantastic," I pointed out. "I mean, one unhappy woman out of the hundreds you've serviced would be considered phenomenal." As soon as I said that, I realized it sounded like we were talking about Ranger's sex life. I would have corrected myself, but I held back, knowing it would sound like I was rambling and because we both knew there was no way in hell Ranger would ever get a complaint by a woman that he had personally "serviced."

The temporary light look on his face faded when he glanced back down at the letter. "Babe, the ability to blend into a circumstance is more than just good customer service. It means the men can hold a cover – and in some cases, stay alive. If they are relying on their size and strength alone, then they're just tempting fate that someone bigger, stronger, or faster will come along and challenge them."

I rolled my eyes. "Like there's anyone stronger, bigger, or faster than you guys."

"It's possible, and with every year that passes on the calendar, it's even probable," Ranger disagreed. "After reading that letter, I started thinking about the training we do here, and it's geared toward size and strength – the gym, the gun range, sparring, running – all of it is strength-based."

"Which is good, because when you're out rounding up skips or clearing a building of drug dealers, you need all that strength," I pointed out.

"But we've focused on that exclusively, which means there is a vulnerability in our strength, because there are times when only finesse will get the job done," Ranger countered. "When I look at how you manage to get skips to the station, it's rarely because of your physical strength. You have mastered the finesse side – distractions, bribing, explaining; all of those are areas that RangeMan is obviously lacking." As he said the last part, he glanced at the letter once more with an obvious look of disgust, as though admitting there was something he wasn't good at was leaving a bad taste in his mouth.

Silence fell between us for a moment, and then he cleared his throat. "I want to hire you to train my men," Ranger announced.

"You want…what?" I knew I'd heard his words, but in thinking through them, they still made no sense to me.

"I want you to work with the guys to build up their skills of subtlety so that they are more effective in the less physical jobs we accept," Ranger clarified.

"How am I supposed to do that?" I asked, completely at a loss.

"If I knew how to do it, I'd do it myself," Ranger replied, sounding slightly defeated in admitting that. "I'll give you free reign to do whatever you think is best to prepare them for these types of assignments. You can do formal lectures in a conference room, you can set up real-life scenarios, you can have them shadow you in the field. Whatever resources you think you need will be at your disposal."

"Who exactly do you want me to work with?" I wondered, not sure if I believed he was serious about this whole scheme.

"Initially, I want the entire leadership team trained, and then we'll handle others on a case-by-case basis," he replied, obviously taking my question as some kind of acceptance.

"So, just the four of you?" I replied, figuring it might not be so bad if it was just Ranger, Tank, Lester, and Bobby.

"No, that's just the core team," Ranger explained, sitting up straighter in his chair, as though a weight that had been pushing him down had somehow been removed from his shoulders. "The four of us each own a piece of RangeMan, with me being the majority partner. The leadership team has the four of us plus Hector, Cal, Hal, and Vince."

"Were any of you at the shower this woman is referring to?" I wondered, struggling to believe they were.

"No." Ranger seemed relieved to make that concession. "I didn't have the full guest list and was told that I needed to secure the hotel parameter for a private party. Since I only had a short period to get guys there, I pulled in a few contract workers, and some guys from the New York office provided the lead."

"How would it help you to fix this from happening again if the guys involved in the problem aren't getting the training?" I didn't want to challenge him, but there did seem to be a huge hole in his plan here.

"Most of the men involved in that disaster are no longer associated with RangeMan," he quickly reported. "But I want to send a message from the top down to show how important this is. If they hear that Lester and Tank are taking refresher training then they aren't as likely to buck it when I send the team out to the other offices to pass along the lessons to the field at large."

"Why not just send me to the other offices to deal with it directly?" I wondered, feeling like the extra step would make it less effective.

Ranger hesitated before responding, as though there was a debate going on in his head about what to say. "I think someone in New York intentionally sabotaged the assignment. If my instinct is right, there's no way in hell I'm sending you there because I can't trust them to watch over you."

"So while you clean house to be sure nothing like this happens again intentionally, you still want to be sure the guys get the message that if this was a poor response to an assignment, this training will remove that excuse in the future," I mused, trying to sum up what I thought he was saying.

"It's still something we don't focus on in our regular training, and since I see it as equally important, I need to prove that by putting some kind of equal emphasis on it," Ranger said. Then he looked at me with a look of pure determination on his face before saying, "And once we're done and I've got New York under my complete control again, I want to be able to look that woman in the face and tell her that I took her words seriously and that kind of service won't happen again."

I got it now. Someone had betrayed Ranger, which was bad enough. But they had done it in a way that tarnished his reputation, which was worse than if they'd just attacked him directly. He was going to clean out the problem, but he refused to pretend it didn't happen, so I was to provide a bit of insurance that the guys would see that handling all assignments appropriately was vital.

My thumbnail went between my teeth so I had something to do with both my hands and my mouth while I thought about what he was asking. This would be so much easier if I had something to eat, but an oatmeal bran muffin wasn't exactly good thinking food.

"I want to help you," I began slowly, almost reluctantly, before forcing myself to finish the thought. "Okay, I see the need, and I understand why you want to do this, but I don't know how to do it."

"Put yourself in this woman's place and imagine that you were throwing a party for a group of your friends and you needed security," Ranger advised. "How would you want the guys to provide the security?"

That was a good way to approach it. I didn't know anything about being the spouse of a foreign dignitary, but I knew a lot about throwing parties and wanting to contain the guest list to minimize gossip or arguments. If I could figure out how to the make the presence of RangeMan acceptable at a party so that people from the 'Burg wouldn't question why they were there, then that level of scrutiny should pass anywhere.

Then Ranger added to the degree of difficulty. "But don't only focus on that single circumstance. The skills the guys learn need to be transferable in various settings."

"What kind of other settings?" I was nervous enough about agreeing to do this, and if he was going to make it even harder, I wasn't sure I could handle the pressure.

"Anything a family might need," he began, before elaborating, "abduction prevention for a kid on a fieldtrip, bodyguard duty while a woman is in the mall, security while a teenager is on a date – hell, anything that a person of power might want to avoid happening to their family while maintaining a level of normalcy for the people they're trying to protect."

"You can do this," I finally said, pointing out the obvious. "Why aren't you training the guys?"

Ranger ran his hand over his face and let out a breath, as though the question was exhausting to him. "I'd like to think I could, and if I were the one assigned, I probably could, but I don't usually accept these assignments. I pass them off on the men. And when I looked at my own life, I realized that I haven't really done it."

"Of course you have. You've lectured me plenty of times about blending into the surroundings when I'm on surveillance; it's that same skill set, right?" I remembered the countless missions he'd gone on, assuming a persona very different from his own and blending in perfectly.

"Maybe," he seemed reluctant to agree. "But when Rachel has asked me in the past about protecting Julie on trips, I've usually either flown down to shadow her myself or I've told Rachel not to let her go. I've basically refused to let my daughter fully live her life because I don't know how to let her go shopping at the mall without any adults with her and still feel as though she's protected. I want the world to know that there's a fierce team following her around so that she's left alone, but from what Rachel says, that isn't allowing Julie to live a normal life, which, to my daughter, is worse than the possibility of something happening to her."

I shivered at the idea of trying to hit the mall as a fourteen-year-old with two men in black covered with weapons and reflective sunglasses following me everywhere. It wasn't a stretch to imagine, because it happened every time I attracted a crazy and Ranger felt I needed extra backup. Despite how much I admired Ranger, I had to side with Rachel on this one. If Ranger had a reason to doubt Julie's safety, he couldn't send her out with an obvious security force. It would either piss her off or make her feel so insecure that she would be afraid to live her life.

"Okay," I agreed, feeling like the desire to live a normal life while still being safe was the greater motivator. "I'll do what I can to help the guys practice blending in and still keeping people safe. When do you want me to start?"

"Yesterday," Ranger responded, obviously eager to begin rectifying what he saw as a shortfall in his company's services. "But I'll tell the guys about it at today's staff meeting and tell them to expect to get a training schedule from you before the end of the week."

My brain was on overload with all the possibilities flying through of how to help the guys see the world from the eyes of a fourteen-year-old girl or a thirty-year-old woman. "Do I need to build this into their work day, or is this to be outside their usual shifts?"

"There is nothing more important than this, so if I need to bring in a contract worker or two to fill in, I'll do it. You set it up however you need to, and I'll move everything else around to accommodate it." He was certainly making this easy on me. "And there is no cost limit. To be successful in the future, RangeMan has to make a name for ourselves in this kind of work just as much as we have in the hard core missions we've run."

After basically saying I had no cap on my budget, he reached his hand out, holding a rectangular piece of plastic.

"What's that?" I asked, already suspecting the answer.

"It's a corporate card for you to use to cover any necessary expenses. There's no limit, so use it for whatever you need," he explained, setting it face up on the edge of the desk closest to me, forcing me to pick it up and accept what he was giving me.

My name was on the front of the black American Express card. "How did you get one with my name on it so quickly?"

He sat back, reverting to his slightly amused expression at my question. "The amount of business I give to them is enough for them to be very accommodating. But I didn't just request that. It's been in my safe for over a year."

"Why have you kept a corporate credit card for me that long?" I knew I was entering dangerous territory here, but I couldn't stop myself from asking.

"I asked you to come to work at RangeMan a year ago," he replied matter-of-factly, as though that was enough of an explanation. I continued to look at him, not sure how to respond to that. I guess he took my silence as doubt, so he added, "Plus, I had to be sure I had you covered in case something ever came up and you had to leave because of your association with me. I needed to be sure you had access to funds immediately if necessary."

"Couldn't somebody trace the activity on that card to see where I was?" I pointed out a major flaw in his emergency planning.

That got me a smile and a head nod. "There's all kinds of danger, Babe," he replied, before proving why he was the man in charge. "So, just to be sure you were covered, I had this one and four others with fake identities attached to them. Depending on why and where you were headed, one of them would have done the job."

"What other names did you use?" I asked, finding this a lot more fun to discuss than how I could help the guys practice skills.

Ranger didn't blush. It was a fact that I'd learned in the few years we'd known each other. Despite that fact, he still looked hesitant to answer my question. And since I was such a sucker, I decided to let him off the hook.

"How about this..." I began to grin as I thought about a way to still get the answer I wanted. "There are four cards and eight guys for me to train. How about after every two guys are done with whatever paces I run them through, you let me see one credit card as a bonus for my work?"

"I'll let you see two of them when you're finished with all eight guys," he countered, looking wary but still enjoying the idea of negotiating with me.

"Why can't I see them all?" I blurted out instead of suggesting a counteroffer.

"Someday," he replied, as though that were an acceptable response.

I folded my arms, most likely resembling a pouting teenager. "I don't think I like your offer."

That earned me a raised eyebrow. "I will not show you all four," he firmly announced.

"How about you show me one after the first three groups of two are finished with training, and after the last grouping is complete, you show me three of yours?" I don't know what made me say that, but now that it was out in the open, I had to stand by it.

Ranger's eyes narrowed slightly, as though thinking through the ramifications of giving up the names of some of his possible aliases. "Agreed," he finally said, making me smile when he stood up and reached over his desk with his hand stretched out to shake mine. "You drive a hard bargain, Ms. Plum."

I shook his hand, enjoying the farce of concluding a business deal, and then replied, "It was nice negotiating with you, Mr. Manoso, and I look forward to earning each of my bonuses as agreed."

"When you finish this assignment, we can talk about a real bonus for you," Ranger replied, completely serious. Before I could argue the point, he let go of my hand and said, "I'll need you to be at the team meeting at 1500 hours so that you hear what I tell the guys about this new project."

I stood there looking at him, waiting to see if I could force him to talk again just by being silent.

I'd nearly given up when Ranger laughed and said, "Three o'clock, Babe, in the large conference room."

Leaving while I was riding the high of a win against Ranger, I decided there wasn't enough time to go to the mall for a treat before the meeting. Instead, I walked over the cubicle that seemed to stay open for my use and turned on the computer there to run a few searches housed in the inbox. I could swear that box was like an eternal flame. No matter how many searches I ran, it seemed to auto fill so that it was never empty.

While I was waiting for it to come on, I realized I had quite possibly learned a new skill today. Twice I had said nothing, and in return, I'd gotten more information than I usually would have if I'd hit Ranger up with questions. I wasn't exactly sure how to use this newfound knowledge to my favor, but I was going to tuck it away for future reference. I might be on the clock to train the guys, but there was no rule against me learning a thing or two in the process.


	2. A Walk in the Park with Lester

_The great JE created the characters below, and I created the mess so that they could have the fun they deserve._

_Jenny (JenRar) thanks for the encouragement and support as the beta on this story. I can't imagine posting something without your careful eye reviewing it first._

**Chapter 2 – A Walk in the Park with Lester**

Because my role at RangeMan had been mainly limited to distractions and searches, I wasn't forced to live through regular staff meetings. I'd been curious what they did in the conference room each week but never interested enough to ask if I could come, too. Now that I was forty-five minutes into the meeting, I realized that I never wanted to be forced to do this again.

The first few minutes were interesting and slightly frightening when Tank went over the new case files RangeMan had gotten from the feds. The U.S. Marshalls, Homeland Security, and the FBI all used RangeMan to pull in some of the worst offenders across the country. After hearing the kind of criminals the guys would be going after, I was nearly afraid to walk to my car alone.

Lester went over some new changes to investigative procedures at the Trenton Police Department, informing the guys about the kinds of things the crime scene techs would be putting greater emphasis on in the future. Bobby called out a list of guys who were due for physicals this week and commanded them to come by his office to get them finished before the weekend was out or they would be pulled from the active rotation and relegated to desk duty. That threat wasn't met with much enthusiasm.

Finally, after all that, Ranger stood up. I had to cover my mouth with my hand so that no one spotted my smile at how all the guys sat up straighter when their commander was facing them. I understood the reflex, so I wasn't judging; I was merely appreciating the kind of presence only Ranger seemed to exude.

He gave them a few general announcements and then looked at me to begin an explanation of why I was in the meeting for the first time. "I asked Stephanie to come today because many of you will be hearing from her over the next few weeks as RangeMan begins a hands-on training series to work on our skills in cover development in domestic situations. I've asked her to handle working with the leadership team and some other key staff to practice the skills we do not use regularly that would allow us to succeed no matter the type of assignment given to us. I expect you to give this your utmost attention. You should consider this training mandatory. Anyone who refuses to give it the appropriate amount of attention will be suspended from their RangeMan duties immediately. From now until I see fit to rescind the order, this training is the most important thing on your docket. Am I understood?"

I was waiting for someone to ask a question or complain about me being the one to handle the training, but instead, there was a chorus of "Yes, sir."

Ranger paused, making eye contact with several of the guys before moving on and saying, "Any questions?"

Caesar spoke first and asked, "Can we volunteer for the training? I'd love to have some time in Bomber's tutelage."

"Once your injuries have healed, you can submit a request to be considered for this training," Ranger replied with a serious expression.

Caesar looked confused before saying, "I'm not on injured reserve, sir."

There was a brief second when I thought Ranger might be about to smile before he said, "You will be after your time on the mats with me at oh-five-hundred tomorrow." Then he looked around, as though daring anyone else to make a comment.

Not surprisingly, the rest of the guys were silent until Ranger nodded to Tank, who barked out, "Dismissed."

It was like watching kids get out of school as the voices began to rise and the men all stood up and started rushing to get out of the room. I hung back, waiting to see if Ranger had any other instructions for me. As the guys walked by, I got a few smiles, a soft slug to the shoulder, and one set of wiggling eyebrows. Tank shut the door after all the guys who were leaving exited, and I realized it was down to me and the leadership team.

I moved to sit with the guys down front.

"When do you think you can start?" Ranger wasted no time in asking.

"If somebody is free tomorrow morning, I think I have a few ideas," I suggested hesitantly.

"Do you need us before our usual gym time?" Bobby asked, somehow sounding sincere, as though there were a bat's chance in hell that I'd be functioning at five o'clock in the morning.

"Umm, after is okay," I responded, trying not to laugh. "I was thinking more along the lines of ten o'clock."

The smile on Ranger's face told me he was enjoying this. Then he leaned forward and said, "I'm going to New York tomorrow to clear out whatever caused this problem. These guys understand the weight this training is to carry and will help you to get any supplies or clearance you need for field exercises."

"Field exercises?" I questioned, picturing myself with a gun, wearing camouflage pants and face paint. "I was thinking most of this would happen out in public."

"Beautiful, we're either in the office or in the field," Lester explained. "Were you picturing yourself leading us in some kind of wilderness survival training?"

I was sure the new coloration on my face gave my answer away, so I stuck my tongue out at him instead of using words to tell him what I thought of his comment.

"Who do you want with you tomorrow?" Ranger asked, bringing me out of my moment of pettiness.

"Since Lester is so quick to speak up, why don't I use him first?" I said, deciding to inflict my revenge on the green-eyed man to my left.

He whistled and grinned. "Beautiful, you can use me in any way you see fit."

There was a growling sound coming from Ranger's general vicinity, but I couldn't figure out why he'd be doing his impression of a dog warning his prey not to come any closer.

Before I had to give that any more thought, I told him, "I'll come by about ten to pick you up, so wear something comfortable. We'll practice a few scenarios to give you a chance to use your skills of blending in while still providing protection."

Obviously taking my attempt to be serious to heart, he nodded and then asked, "Who will be your next victim after me?"

I hadn't really thought much past the first day, so I told them, "How about I email you all a schedule tomorrow so that you can let me know if I need to adjust the times to fit around your work?"

"No," Ranger jumped in. "You email the schedule, and they can adjust their work load to make it fit. You don't need to accommodate them; I made it perfectly clear this is a top priority."

Mouthing an "okay" as a response, I realized this was obviously a much bigger deal to him than I'd realized in his office. I'd heard him say it to me, but the way he was saying it in front of the guys was leaving no doubt.

"And I'll expect you guys—" as Ranger spoke he looked around the room "—to be sure that everyone else picks up on how important this training is so that if we elect to expand the participant list, they will all know the expectation and act accordingly."

"I'll handle the schedule," Tank volunteered.

Ranger nodded that he understood, and something in the way he let his eyes stay on his second-in-command gave me the impression that something else had been communicated as well.

Seeing that I wasn't really needed for a silent briefing, I stood up and made my way to the door.

"Stephanie."

Hearing Ranger use my full name made me stop in my tracks.

When I turned around to see what I'd done to warrant such an unusual address, he said, "Thank you for doing this."

I smiled, knowing that those words, despite their simplicity, meant a great deal coming from him. "No price, remember?" I loved finally being able to quote his words back to him.

Ranger returned my smile with one of his own, making me sigh at the sight of him when he let his guard down like that. "Does that mean I don't have to live up to the terms we negotiated earlier?" he teased in return.

"Oh, you're going to honor it, all right," I assured him, attempting to sound stern. "And I'm going to do whatever I can think of to one day get a full view of everything you have for me." Once the words were out of my mouth, I realized they sounded a little suggestive, but I refused to make myself look like an idiot by trying to explain what I'd meant.

I decided the faster I walked away, the greater the chance of not embarrassing myself further, so I retreated quickly just as the guys began to give Ranger a hard time about what I'd meant by _everything_ _he had for me_.

By the time I got to the garage, I realized I had some work to do, so I swung by the grocery to get some inspirational food. A pint of Ben and Jerry's Phish Food made sense. I smiled at my own little joke, since fish were supposed to be brain food, and then picked up some potato chips for a vegetable, a can of mixed nuts for protein, and some chocolate-covered cherries for a fruit. Wow, I had a well balanced meal and I didn't even have to go to the produce section. Feeling slightly guilty, I picked up a small bag of hamster nuggets for Rex and then decided to leave before I made any more impulse purchases.

At home, I put everything away except for the ice cream and then sat on my couch to plan out the next few days. Working between my dessert and the legal pad to make notes, I began to brainstorm different ways to give the guys exposure to blending in without running them through the same exercise. It became clear right away that I was going to need some help to pull off some of my ideas. So I picked up my cell phone and called Grandma Mazur, Valerie, Mary Lou, and Lula and told them what Ranger had asked me to do.

They were all more than willing to volunteer and helped me come up with even more ideas for keeping the guys on their toes. By the time I was done, I realized I had more than enough ideas to handle the original eight guys plus a few more if somebody else needed to be trained later.

Since it was early yet, I typed out a schedule covering the original guys Ranger had asked me to work with and emailed it to Tank, asking him to send it to the rest of the guys after looking it over to be sure it would work.

Two minutes after hitting send, I got a ding on my laptop, indicating I had received a new message. I hadn't bothered to get up from my comfy spot on the couch, so I was still in a great place to see if there was a new pharmaceutical product that my life would be revolutionized with.

Tank had responded to my schedule with RangeMan efficiency. "Your schedule has been posted and stands. Santos will see you at 1000 hours tomorrow; the rest will follow as you recorded." Beneath his less than friendly note was his standard RangeMan signature that listed his title and office contact information

I wondered if he always wrote that way or if it was just because this was official correspondence. I gave him a quick reply. "Did you know that if you type a colon and close parentheses, it makes a smiley face?"

Nearly immediately, I got another reply that read only, "Yes." His signature didn't appear in the small screen I had up so I hit the maximize button to see the whole note at once and then almost fell off my seat. There were a good number of blank lines before two characters appeared. He'd typed a semicolon and a close parentheses making a winking smile in return just before his auto signature appeared. If I hadn't opened the full screen I never would have seen it. Who knew the big guy had such a sense of humor?

I doubted I could get Tank to relax and joke with me more than once in a night, so I closed my laptop and formulated my plan for Lester tomorrow.

Lester was a little tricky, because of all the guys, he was the one that would excel at this just using his natural playboy techniques. Depending on what he was wearing, his mixed heritage and spiky hair could be manipulated to help in blending into numerous settings without seeming out of place.

I looked over my list of possibilities and realized many of them would be simple for him. I felt like I had something to prove with this first day, so I wanted to be sure he finished it and was able to go to the office and report back that it had been helpful.

I didn't think he needed to be forced to go through the mall with me, because he'd probably suggest we spend our time in Victoria's Secret and keep me so on edge that I wouldn't be able to concentrate. I couldn't take him to a club because he had proven on numerous distractions that he was capable of picking up women while still keeping an eye on me.

I'd seen him in gang wear on Stark with Hector, and he'd seemed completely at home. Then I remembered that one day, I'd seen him in a tailored suit making a sales call with Ranger, and that little image had helped me break in a new shower massager that night. I didn't think Les was going to need any lectures about altering his apparel to blend in, either.

Looking over the top of the list, I picked out two activities to keep us busy for a few hours and hoped he'd be a good sport and at least pretend to be challenged for the time we were together.

Figuring I'd put in a long enough day already, I went to bed.

The next morning, I woke up at the early hour of eight thirty, happy to have enough time to get ready and review my plan for the day. I could make a call to Valerie on my way to pick up Les and let her know what time to expect us.

While I was reviewing everything I wanted to accomplish, I ran through what had seemed like such a brilliant plan last night but in the light of the morning wasn't really sounding all that challenging to a guy from RangeMan. Still, it was too late to back out now, so I decided I had no choice but to move forward and hope something good could be salvaged from my plans.

Being in charge of the schedule made it easy to get ready, so I threw on a pair of jeans and a pink t-shirt with small roses embroidered along the neckline. It was sickeningly girly and absolutely not something I would have ever gotten for myself. It was a gift from my sister for my birthday last year, so I thought it would both make her happy to see me wearing it and help me to blend in where we were going first. I finished my look by twisting my hair into a messy bun and not bothering to secure any of the tendrils that fell out randomly.

I had just enough time to pour a cup of coffee in a tumbler to drink on the way and locate my keys, which had ended up in the cabinet next to the hamster nuggets.

Glancing at the clock in my little CRV, I realized I had gotten to RangeMan with two minutes to spare. But before I could get out of my car, the stairwell door opened and Les walked out in a pair of loose fitting blue jeans, sneakers, and an olive-colored t-shirt that fit him like a molded glove. It was going to be hard to work with him today because he was looking like the ideal guy to me – sexy, dangerous, playful, and comfortable. On his shoulder was a small backpack.

While I was busy drooling over my student for the day, Les walked over to my side of the car, so I rolled down my window.

"You want me to drive?" he asked, obviously hopeful that I'd say yes.

"No," I told him, dashing his hope. "I planned the day, so I get to drive."

He ambled over to the passenger side and climbed in, stowing his bag at his feet.

"What's that?" I couldn't stop myself from asking.

Les grinned a little and then explained, "Plans B, C, and D."

Not understanding, I put the car back into park and waited on a better answer.

"I wasn't sure how comfortable I needed to be, so I have a nicer shirt in the bag, which is plan B," he began, holding out a finger to show he was counting out as he went. "Then I didn't know what to expect, so I have some observation gear – a mic and earpiece in case we need to be apart but still communicating, which is plan C." A second finger went up. Then he gave me his best smile, and I felt my fist balling up reflexively. "And since I am out with you, meaning anything could go wrong, I have a couple of backup weapons, a panic button, and a pair of cuffs, which is plan D."

Sure enough, my fist moved with a mind of its own and made solid contact with his shoulder before he could lift that third finger to show that his count was complete.

"This isn't a Boy Scout adventure, Les," I told him as I turned back to begin driving. "You didn't need to be prepared for every contingency."

"Boy Scout?" He seemed hurt by the comparison. "Beautiful, I'm no Boy Scout, but I am going to be ready for anything that comes my way."

We began to joke, and the ride over to the park on Charles Street went quickly. After parking next to Valerie's minivan, I shut off the car and turned to look him in the eye. "Okay, first thing today we are going to provide some protection for two of my nieces. Valerie has them at the park, and you are going to blend in without drawing attention to yourself."

"Piece of cake," he replied, a little too cocky for his own good.

"For this to work, we are going to have to add a few more restrictions. If RangeMan had been hired to provide security for a visiting dignitary's family, you might get an assignment like this one. You need to be close enough to maintain a visual on the children, but you cannot interact with them. You can't just stand over them, or they will be frightened, and you can't do anything to make the other parents, especially the overprotective mothers here, anxious. In this day and age, a guy by himself, who is standing perfectly still and staring at a group of girls as they're playing without interacting with any of them will be assumed to be there for sexual reasons, and the cops could be called. Obviously that would mean you failed to blend in." As I spoke, I could see the initially confident expression begin to fade and then disappear altogether when I mentioned the cops being called.

"Can I just sit with you? If I'm here with my girlfriend, then no one would think I was here for the children, right?"

It wasn't a bad suggestion, but I wasn't always available to be the sidekick for the guys, so they needed to practice doing this without me.

"No, if this were a real assignment, you wouldn't be allowed to sit with the wife of the dignitary, so you can't use me to establish your cover," I answered, shooting down his idea.

"What kind of threat am I looking for?" It was a great question. "I mean, is it my ass if one of them falls off the monkey bars?"

"No, you aren't the parent. You don't have to protect them from self harm, although if something like that were to happen today, you do have my permission to intervene, simply because a trip to the ER would ruin the rest of my plans." I couldn't help but contradict myself with the thought of one of my nieces breaking their arm.

"I would think the main concern if this were a real life situation would be kidnapping, so you have to be sure no one makes off with one of the girls. And remember, more than half of all abductions happen by people who know the child, so just because they aren't screaming doesn't mean they aren't being kidnapped. The only people allowed to remove the girls from the park are me and Valerie. Even if you recognize someone else, you have to assume they are a hostile and prevent them from reaching the children," I warned him.

He nodded, strangely quiet.

"Any questions?" I figured I should give him a chance to ask them now, because once I got out of the CRV, I was going to act as though I didn't know him.

He opened him mouth but didn't say anything, and then he shook his head no.

I pulled out pictures of Mary Alice and Angie, just to remind him what they looked like, and then pointed to the playground. "They're playing somewhere over there. I'll be at a bench with Valerie if you need me, but try to avoid coming over because it would give you a cover that would make this much easier.

I'll find you when we're done, but I wouldn't expect it to be for at least an hour or more," I warned him, hoping his RangeMan skills of being alert for long stretches of time would kick in here, too. And with that, we got out and went our separate ways.

I waved at Mary Alice and Angie, who were on the swings. Angie was pumping in an even way, her straight hair flying behind her beautifully as she swayed forward. Mary Alice was leaning back as far as she could while still hanging onto the chains of the swing, as though trying to see the clouds above her. When she began to slow down, she would sit up only enough to increase her momentum and then lean back again.

"Hey, Val," I called out when I found the bench where she was sitting to watch the girls. "I wonder if we used to look like that when we played at the park together."

She smiled at me and then turned back to keep an eye on her children. "Probably," she answered, and then asked, "Why do you think she leans back like that?"

"I can't say why she does it, but when I used to, I did it because it makes you feel like you're moving even faster, and you can feel like you're really flying instead of just riding on a swing," I told her.

"Leave it to Mary Alice to find a way to turn a trip to the park into a full-throttle adrenaline experience," Valerie replied, not sounding upset about it, but not exactly understanding it, either.

"I'd tell you to give it time and she'll outgrow it, but that hasn't happened for me yet," I warned her, getting a laugh in return.

"True, but you seem to be doing okay, so I guess I should stop worrying about it," Valerie surprised me by responding.

We chatted for an hour before I realized the park wasn't as crowded. There were three mothers on a bench across from us staring at the same spot, so I turned to get a better visual on what had them so captivated. Before I could see anything unusual, I heard a car door slam, and my eyes went to the noise instead. Stepping toward the park from the tan Ford was none other than Joe Morelli.

He saw me and walked over, obviously confused by my presence at a children's play area. I met him halfway and asked what he was doing here.

"I was in the area when dispatch said they'd gotten two calls from the park from worried parents that an unknown male was watching the children. They were worried about some kind of sex offender getting off on all the kids here." When he said the last part, Joe's voice got hard, and I knew I needed to come clean.

Joe put family above most things, and the idea of a child getting hurt on his watch wouldn't sit well with him. In fact, his loyalty to the idea of family was probably one of the main reasons we'd eventually called it quits and managed to stay apart. Joe was ready for a family of his own, and when he made it clear that I either needed to step up or step away, I realized only one of those options was remotely attractive to me. So, breaking it off was easier than I'd thought it would be. We'd tried to avoid each other at first, just to be sure we didn't have an extra horny night and end up doing something that would muddy the waters, but after a week or two and enduring the lectures from both of our families, I think we both realized we were happy with our decision to stop pretending we had a romantic future, and being friends became easy.

I explained why I thought he'd gotten the call from the concerned parents and told him about my plan with Lester watching over my nieces. He laughed at the idea of one of Ranger's guys getting busted for deviant behavior at the park and begged me to at least let him arrest Les, even if he didn't get to take him to the station for booking. I managed to talk him out of it, just as I heard screaming.

When I jerked my head in the location of the sound, I saw Angie running to Valerie and Mary Alice running in the opposite direction. I followed Mary Alice and got there just in time to see Lester cuffing Albert, who was face down in the soft mulch they used under the jungle gym to keep the kids from falling onto a hard surface.

"What are you doing?" I screeched at Lester.

"You said no one could leave with one of the girls, and I saw him walking toward them, calling their names, so I apprehended him." There was a look of triumph on his face until he saw Joe walk up behind me with his hands on his hips.

"I didn't say you had to tackle him." I pointed at Albert, who was being uncharacteristically quiet at the moment. "Let him go," I finally commanded.

"Albert, are you all right?" I wondered, holding out a hand to help him stand up again.

By this time, Valerie was with us, and she began to fuss over her "cuddle-umpkins" so that he didn't have a chance to respond to my concern.

Joe ran his fingers through his hair like he always did when he was frustrated and then pulled out a pad of paper and a pen. "All right, I have to at least take a statement here. There are enough people snapping pictures with cell phones that I need to be sure I have the whole story to give to the chief when he asks what happened."

Albert only managed to say, "I was just coming to surprise my girls at the park. When I called out to them, I felt something hit me, and then there was screaming and I couldn't move."

Valerie continued to rub his arms as she gave her side of the story. "I agreed to help Stephanie last night when she called, figuring it would be a good idea for the men she worked with to be comfortable guarding children in case Stephanie ever has one of her own. Plus, it's never a bad thing to have extra eyes watching your kids at the park, so it seemed like such an easy way to help. I forgot to tell Albert about the plan, though, and since he decided to surprise us, he got caught in the middle."

It was difficult to control my shiver at the idea of me having one of my own, and then I got sidetracked briefly at the image of the guys trying to watch over them as they played here in the park.

I went through my plan again so that Joe would have it officially.

Before I finished the last part, Lester interrupted. "I don't want to step into it again, but do any of you know that man over there talking to Mary Alice?"

Everyone quickly turned to look just in time to see the middle aged man put his hand around my niece's wrist. She shook her head no, and when he tugged to force her to go with him, she lifted her free arm, took her little fist, and thrust it into the crotch of the would-be abductor. When he doubled over, she let out a blood-curdling scream.

Hearing that sound was answer enough to Lester's question, so he took off, easily cuffing the man, who was struggling to catch his breath.

Valerie picked up Mary Alice and began asking if she was all right. After it became apparent that she was fine, my sister changed tactics and asked, "Why did you hit him in the…well…in his delicate bits?"

I guess Valerie had inherited my mother's inability to speak of the male anatomy.

Mary Alice grinned and looked at me. "Aunt Stephanie said if a man was ever trying to hurt me, I should ram my knee in his boys, but he was too tall for me to lift my leg that high, so I used my hand instead." Then she twisted in Valerie's arms to see me better and said, "You were right, Aunt Stephanie. That really did bring him down."

I couldn't stop the proud smile that came over my face when I realized something I'd said had saved my niece. Then I turned to Lester, who was holding the creep that had been attempting to kidnap Mary Alice. I placed a hand on Lester's shoulder and suddenly couldn't figure out how to say what I felt, so I merely offered, "Thank you."

He nodded, not attempting a joke, which only added to the seriousness of what could have happened if he hadn't been watching the girls.

Joe got Mary Alice's statement quickly and then had Lester walk the pervert to the patrol car that had pulled up during the commotion. I thanked him for his help and then lifted my cheek when he leaned in to kiss me.

"Can you give me a head's up about any of these training exercises you plan on doing in the future?" he asked, only partly joking.

Understandably, Valerie and Albert were anxious to get the girls home, so I hugged her and apologized for all the trouble we'd caused. She had calmed down and was in control of her actions, obviously not about to provide any more gossip among the young women in the area. It was probably more to keep up appearance than sincerity that allowed her to tell me not to worry since everything had worked out well in the end.

When it was just Les and me, he grinned and asked, "So did I pass with flying colors?"

It was hard to keep from laughing when he went from pumped to dejected as I shook my head no.

"Why not? I saved her," Lester defended his work for the day.

"No, she saved herself with quick thinking. You were just there to point it out to the rest of us." I decided to be sure Mary Alice got the credit she deserved. "Plus, you pounced on the wrong person, made a huge scene, and prior to that, two different mothers had already called the cops to report you lurking around, watching the children. Joe wanted to arrest you until I talked him out of it."

"Well, what was I supposed to do?" he surprised me by asking for advice.

"Come on." I pulled him toward the car. "We'll go get some ice cream, and we can debrief there."

"Ranger doesn't let us debrief with ice cream," Lester replied, as though I were somehow bound to RangeMan protocol.

I stared at him until he looked at me and nodded, obviously realizing who he was dealing with. "If I get a double scoop, will you tell the boss?"

"Not if you keep the size of my serving to yourself as well," I countered.

We shook hands as Les declared that we had made a deal. I realized that I'd learned something about working with the guys: they liked to negotiate. I needed to think about it a little more, but something told me the next time I wanted to do something that they were opposed to, I might have more success bargaining with them instead of trying to argue my way through.

I'd think about that later, right after I finished the extra large cone the teenage girl was holding up for me. Les looked at his small serving and then back to my much larger one and raised an eyebrow.

"What can I say?" I teased. "Size does matter."


	3. Eyebrows Raised for Tank

_The characters below all belong to JE. I had nothing to do with their creation – darn it._

_Jenny (JenRar) you are a wonderful beta. Thank you for making my jumbled thoughts clear enough to post._

**Chapter 3 – Eyebrows Raised for Tank**

I walked up with Lester after we finished our ice cream and noticed there was a short stack of searches in the inbox of the cubicle I thought of as mine, so I decided to sit down and work on them.

After setting the first one to run, I pulled up my email and noticed one from Ranger. He rarely sent me anything, so I wondered what would inspire him to reach out to me today. When I clicked on it, I was quickly disappointed, because it wasn't very personal at all.

"_Be__ sure to file a written report on every training exercise you run. Tank will need a copy_."

I should have known this assignment was going to get more difficult. Now there was paperwork involved, so it didn't seem as much fun as it had at one point. I hit next and noticed there was a second email from Ranger, of similar length.

"_Babe__, I'd love to know your impressions of the __guys, too__, so let me know how things progress_."

He'd hit return a few times and then added, "_Please,_" at the bottom.

Now I _had_ to do it. Curse me and my inability to say no when the guys were vulnerable enough to say please.

I finished up the search I had running and then opened up a Word document so that I could detail the purpose of the exercise and the end result. Since there was now a police record, I had no choice but to include all the details of what had happened, including my instructions, Lester's tackle of Albert, and the ultimate apprehension of a pervert trying to kidnap my niece. By the time I was finished typing, the report was four pages long.

Since I wasn't technically a RangeMan employee, I didn't now if there was an official report submission protocol, so I just attached it to an email to Tank and copied Lester, figuring he deserved to see what I'd written about his day in the field with me.

I had tried to paint him in the most positive light possible. Initially, he had hidden behind a newspaper, pretending to be watching it instead of the children. But once he noticed a few of the mothers paying attention to him instead of their children, he figured he wasn't convincing enough to pull off reading the paper, so he'd moved to a different part of the park and a mom came up and hit on him. That kept him from doing his scans of the area, so once again he'd had to reposition himself. It was his third cover that was compromised when Albert appeared.

I honestly didn't have any advice for how he could have done any better and agreed that if this had been a real assignment, he would have been right in suggesting that I go with him to pretend to be his girlfriend. We could have sat on a bench and looked at all the kids without anyone knowing we were really there to provide a protective presence.

Despite my having assured him that he'd done a good job, he had taken my words to heart that the police arriving on the scene meant he had, in essence, failed his ultimate objective. Apparently, that idea didn't sit well with the guys at RangeMan, because he'd grumbled about it all the way back to the office, and before we'd split up on five, he'd turned to me and asked if he could have another turn. He wanted to think about it some and try again.

I didn't have the heart to tell him no, so I'd agreed, realizing I was just lengthening the amount of time I would be planning these little exercises for the guys. Then again, there are worse ways to spend a day than in the company of a sexy man, so it wasn't a total loss.

After thinking back over the day, I decided that Ranger should probably hear about the experience from me instead of Tank, so I attached the report I'd written to his email and then wrote a quick note.

"_I__ think today's experience with Les taught me I need better contingency __plans and__ taught him that this is harder than he thought it would be. Hopefully he'll pass that message __along, which__ will cause the guys to take this seriously. Don't __worry, though__, I'm not giving up, and I won't let you down. I'll take Les out for another try next week sometime._"

Then I sat there reading my note and decided that some things were easier to type than to say, so I added, "_I miss you_," at the bottom and then hit send before I could second guess myself.

That night, I spent over an hour on the phone talking to Grandma Mazur. She was going to help me with my exercise the next day, and I wanted to be sure I didn't have a repeat of today's disaster with her. I was already tempting fate by including her in this but figured if the guys could keep her out of trouble without raising any eyebrows, then they were obviously experts at maintaining a cover and a security presence at the same time.

I knew the details would have been easier to plan out in person, but I didn't want my mother to know what we were up to, so I used the phone instead. I told myself I was excluding my mother to keep her from worrying, but in all honesty, I was really doing it to keep from having to hear her lecture or her yelling that my idea was ridiculous and would only bring embarrassment to our family. The fact that she would have been right about that, taking away any counter argument I might have come up with, forced me into acting behind her back.

The next night was Tank's turn, and I'd told him I would pick him up at five o'clock. I'd not given him any warning about what we were doing other than to tell him he needed to be dressed up. When he replied by saying, "Tux or suit?" I nearly choked on my muffin. Tank and I were definitely friends, as much as you could be with a guy who didn't like to use more than five words at the time. But the idea of him in a tux made wonder both if they came big enough to fit him and just how gorgeous he would be in formal attire. In the end, it didn't matter, because I couldn't redo all my plans just to see him in a monkey suit. And even though Lula had moved on, I didn't think she would appreciate him getting that dressed up for me since he'd never worn anything but his RangeMan uniform for her.

By the time five o'clock, or seventeen hundred hours as Tank insisted on calling it, rolled around, I was sitting in my CRV in the parking lot at Haywood, proud of myself for being on time easily two days in a row. Getting myself out the door for my own appointments was a bit of a struggle from time to time, but when I knew it was for Ranger, my mind refused to be sidetracked enough to let him down.

Before I began to debate if I should go upstairs to get him, Tank walked through the stairwell door, and I blinked several times to be sure my eyes were focusing correctly. If possible, the suit made him seem even bigger. The dark charcoal fit him as though it had been hand stitched around his frame, and the black shirt and necktie combination dressed it up even more. It was unfair that these guys were naturals at everything they did, even at looking good and making it seem effortless.

He came to the driver's side door just as Lester had, so I rolled down the window and waited for the comment I knew would be coming.

"I drive," he stated, as that would be enough to make me surrender my privileges.

Shaking my head no, I replied, "I know, I know, but tonight, it's my training, my rules, and a standing order that you have to comply with whatever I say. So I'm driving."

His eyes narrowed as he gave into the obvious leverage I had and moved around to the other side of the car.

When he got in, he was as quiet as ever, but for some reason, his silence felt more like pouting than his typical patience, and I couldn't stop myself from pointing it out. "There's no reason to pout. The next time we ride together, you can drive."

"I'm not…" he started to say, before gaining control over his mouth and stopping mid-sentence. Even censoring himself, I still knew what he was about to say, and the fact that he was going to attempt to deny pouting was enough to let me know I was right.

I drove us in silence, amazed that he wasn't asking for details of what I had in store for him. Even when we entered the 'Burg, he remained stoic and still in his seat. I guess he'd operated long enough under need to know protocols that he didn't feel the same need I would have to get all the details of why he'd had to dress up.

I pulled into a parking space at the curb near Stiva's Funeral Home and then took the key out of the ignition and angled myself just enough to see Tank's face. "Tonight, we are going to do two things for you to practice your security skills without making your presence overwhelming."

Tank looked down as though telling me his size made him overwhelming and no amount of training was going to make him smaller.

Knowing there was no point in arguing about it, I pressed on. "Tonight is the viewing for Mr. Mitchell Elverson. He was a very nice man who happened to be cursed in life with larger than normal eyebrows. His wife used to yell at him to have them trimmed at the barbershop, but he refused to have it done. Apparently, there is a great deal of curiosity about whether or not Mrs. Elverson had the staff at Stiva's trim his eyebrows down to a manageable level for the funeral."

Tank nodded that he was listening but didn't attempt to interrupt. While I usually felt annoyed by his lack of conversation, it was nice to have someone listening to me that didn't feel the need to interject his own thoughts and opinions along the way.

"As you are aware, my Grandma Mazur has a bit of a bad reputation at viewings in this particular funeral home. Unfortunately, she and the widow never got along. Mrs. Elverson can't really refuse to let someone come in for the viewing, but if the two ladies come in contact with each other, there may be a scene," I explained, getting a mild cringe at the mention of my grandmother but a nod at the mention that there was the potential for a scene.

"Your objective here is to keep my grandmother from running into this woman." I pulled out a newspaper clipping that had Mrs. Elverson's picture so he'd have an image of the widow to go off of. Fortunately, she was at least three hundred and fifty pounds, so picking her out of a crowd wasn't going to be difficult. "You cannot prevent Grandma Mazur from seeing Mr. Elverson in his casket, but you should stop her if she attempts to touch the body in any way."

"Where will you be?" he asked.

"I'll be floating around," I replied vaguely. "I knew the Elversons from growing up in the 'Burg, so I should pay my respects while we're here."

"Do you have an ETA on when your grandmother will arrive?" He was attempting to get more details, talking more than usual when we were together.

Shrugging, I admitted, "When we spoke last night, she said she'd be here at five thirty, so I'd think we have about ten minutes to get in our positions, but this is my grandmother we're talking about, so there is an element of unpredictability that we need to plan on."

"Understood," he said with a firm nod, as though that was no problem at all.

I figured I owed him an explanation of how this could possibly be a real life situation. "I know it seems as though you have two different objectives, but imagine you are providing security for an event that would cause various dignitaries to attend on a floating basis. There may be certain countries that should not be allowed to have any contact with each other, so keeping the widow and Grandma Mazur apart would be much like that. And if you were assigned to a specific visitor, it would also be your duty to be sure they were able to experience as much as possible from the event without your presence interfering, but you also need to be sure they don't do something that would reflect poorly on your ability to provide a peaceful secure setting. So you may have to cut off certain things they want to do in a manner so subtle that it doesn't appear that you are attempting to order a foreign leader around."

His eyes narrowed as I spoke, and I realized that his typical silence was in no way a comment on his intelligence. He was carefully considering everything I was saying. "I could see that happening," he finally admitted, making me feel as though tonight might be much easier than yesterday had turned out to be.

Since we had nothing else to discuss, we got out of the CRV to make our way inside. He scanned the area as we walked along the sidewalk. With a hand on his wrist, I stopped him and said, "If you go in there like that, everyone will assume there is a problem and you'll cause there to be a fear factor that could ruin this time of mourning for the family."

Tank looked down, obviously assuming I was referring to his appearance.

"You look great – ahh, I mean, fine." Leave it to my mouth to get derailed when seeing Tank in a suit. "What I meant was, you're scanning as though a known terrorist is in the area. If you keep that up, people will run screaming from the funeral home, thinking it's about to blow up. You have to blend in."

He nodded without a response, causing me to wonder if I'd insulted him or made a valid point. After three seconds of silence, I figured he wasn't going to say anything, so I began walking again, only to feel his hand on my wrist this time.

"I'm not used to acting without backup, and the sidewalk from the car to the door is not lit well, so any number of threats could have been present," he explained his constant scanning. "I'll tone it down inside."

Deciding to take a page from his book, I smiled instead of telling him I was glad he could switch it off. Once we made it to the front door of the funeral home, I turned back to wish him good luck and realized he was gone. Assuming it was a skill he'd learned in the Rangers and not that the idea of having to stop my grandmother had caused him to run away, I moved on into the building and found the plate of cookies they always kept on the table in the vestibule. Since they were peanut butter chocolate chip, I took a minute to enjoy two of them before moving all the way into the viewing room.

It wasn't full, which was a relief, but there was enough of a crowd that it would be easy to lose someone. When I looked over the top of the heads in the room, one of them stuck out well above the gray ones at the front. I caught sight of Tank's head just before he bent down to speak directly to the widow. He stood there for some time, long enough that the people who had initially stopped and stared at them turned away and began to hold private conversations once more.

I kept craning my neck to try to get a view of what he was doing, but the crowd would fill in every time I found a position to peek at them. It wasn't until I saw a bubble gum pink head of hair made into tight little curls that I realized Grandma Mazur was here and only a matter of inches away from where Mr. Elverson's head was in the casket.

Pushing my way through the crowd as subtly as possible to keep from attracting too much attention to myself, I found every attempt to get directly to the casket was blocked. So I made my way to where Mrs. Elverson was receiving guests instead and got through just as Tank turned away from her and moved to the casket. He obviously had no problem pushing his way through the sea of people the way I did, so I gave up trying to reach Grandma and spoke very quickly to the widow, who dabbed at her eyes with a black handkerchief I guessed had been in Tank's pocket.

When I turned around, I saw Grandma grinning up at Tank and leading him through the crowd to the front door. I did a quick glance at Mr. Elverson and heard a screech before I could focus. As soon as the sound of hysterics from behind me stopped, I realized that on Mr. Elverson's face was a pair of costume glasses to help someone impersonate Groucho Marx. They were heavy black frames with a thick mustache under the fake nose and huge bushy eyebrows attached to the top of the glasses. I wouldn't have thought it possible growing up, but the eyebrows on the prop were even larger and more out of control than the ones Mr. Elverson wore naturally.

There was no doubt in my mind where they had come from, so I turned around and made my way to the exit as quickly as possible. I was just in time to see Tank and my grandmother having a calm conversation, as though nothing unusual had happened.

"Grandma!" I tried to keep my voice calm, but the thought of those glasses had me impersonating my mother anyway. "Why did you put those glasses on Mr. Elverson?"

Despite her quick reply of, "Granddaughter, I didn't put any fake glasses on Mr. Elverson," I knew she was lying, or at the very least leaving out part of her role in what happened.

Tank jumped in. "I looked at the guy in the casket before I walked out, and he wasn't wearing glasses," he reported in all seriousness.

"Then who put the pair of Groucho Marx glasses with the enormous eyebrows on him?" I wondered.

Tank looked back up to the door, and Grandma Mazur didn't even try to hide her laughter at the question.

"This isn't funny," I told her. "His widow is really upset that someone messed with her husband's body."

"I'll bet she was," Grandma managed to get out between fits of laughter. "She has his eyebrows trimmed down so much, it looked like they were completely gone and then penciled in. I knew Mitchell, and he would have rather looked like a fool in a costume than a woman wearing makeup on his face."

I stared at her, hoping she'd break and admit that she was responsible for the stunt in the funeral home, but before I could wear her down, I heard a man's voice calling out, "Edna!"

Tank spun around, his hand reaching behind him and under his suit jacket to grab what was probably only one of many weapons on him at the moment. I put a hand on his wrist to keep him from drawing the gun and creating a scene.

"Hey, sweet thing," a small man with no hair on his head but plenty coming out of his ears said as he approached my grandmother. "Did you see what I did for Mitchell?" he asked, grinning so wide that I worried his dentures might slip out.

"Did you do that?" Grandma Mazur asked, looking back at me as though making the point that she had tried to tell me she was innocent.

The old man in front of us slapped his knee and laughed some more. "I did," he freely admitted. "Mitchell and I played cards together every Thursday night for almost seventy years, even when we were stationed in the Philippines in World War Two. And I promised him if his wife messed with his face that I'd do something to give him back the look he had kept for his whole life, so I slid the glasses on when nobody was looking." At that, he fell into another fit of giggles before wiping his eyes and saying, "You should have seen her face."

Grandma Mazur moved closer and slipped her hand around the laughing guy's arm. "Why don't we slip down to the VFW and you can tell me all about it over a game of Bingo? I'm feeling lucky tonight, and if I can't win after a few cards, maybe we can come up with something else to capitalize on my feeling."

I had to look away before my lunch threatened to make a reappearance, and when I turned back around, Tank was watching my grandmother walk away and shaking his head.

"Come on," I told him. "The sooner we're gone, the less likely it is that my mother will get a phone call trying to lay this on us."

He followed along, and even though I could tell he was still scanning the area, he was definitely being more subtle about it, so I didn't bother to call him on it. He'd positioned himself so that he was on the road side of the sidewalk, and since I figured it had something to do with keeping me safely out of the path of oncoming traffic, I didn't fight him on it.

I guess I'd given him too chivalrous a motivation, because he waited until the headlights on the CRV blinked, indicating I had just pressed the remote entry button, and then he broke off and beat me to the driver's side door, somehow managing to slip behind the wheel.

I walked over to where he was sitting and shook my head no. "My night of training, my chance to drive," I reminded him. "We went over this already tonight."

"True," he admitted, "but then you said I could drive the next time – after you accused me of pouting, which I wasn't doing."

"I meant the next time we went somewhere together, not the next leg of our training tonight," I pointed out.

"You said next time, and I'm already here," he pointed out, basically saying I had no chance of moving him so I may as well give up.

Instead, I took a step back and held up the keys, jingling them to make the point that he might have the seat, but without the keys, he wasn't going to go anywhere. Then something miraculous happened: Tank laughed. Not a little chuckle, but a full blown deep loud amused sound.

"What is so funny?" I wondered, figuring it was too much to ask for him to be amused that I'd gotten one up on him and that he was going to give up and let me sit behind the wheel like I wanted.

"You can keep the keys," he said, bending down with his hand near the bottom of the console under the steering column. "I can just hotwire it."

"All right," I screeched out, hoping he'd stop at my outburst. "Here." I held the keys in his direction. "Take the keys, you cheater."

Tank laughed again and said, "I prefer the term outcome engineer."

"You're going to have to settle for jerk," I informed him before huffing over to the passenger side and getting in.

He turned the key and then looked in my direction to ask, "Where to now?"

A small childish part of me wanted to tell him that since he was taking over, he could figure it out on his own, but I tried to push it down in order to hang onto at least a small fragment of my pride. "We're going to dinner at DaVinci's."

Tank tilted his head as though trying to figure out what I was talking about, so I gave him directions to the Italian place just outside of Trenton, on the opposite side of town from the 'Burg, meaning everyone who would know me would be eating somewhere else. And even though Connie's family loved eating here, which probably only proved that the alleged mob ties were true, I still felt it was better than going somewhere closer, where my presence would keep this from being a productive dinner.

He parked the car two spaces from the front door and then handed me the keys. "What's my objective here?"

"We're going to have dinner," I said, as though it were obvious.

He seemed confused, so I decided to add, "Look, I'm assuming you already know this, but just in case it somehow slipped your notice, you're a big guy. You don't exactly blend into your surroundings. Usually that works in your favor because you can intimidate the hell out of people to make them do what you want."

Tank's mouth seemed to be struggling to keep from tilting up at the edges. I had a feeling he liked the idea of being able to intimidate people.

I kept talking, missing the almost smile when his blank face took over completely. "But there are times when you might need to blend in and not intimidate."

"When Ranger needs someone to blend in, he sends Santos, or he goes," Tank pointed out.

"For tonight, let's pretend that they weren't available, so you have to do it," I countered, trying to let him know he wasn't going to get out of this.

"What do I have to do?"

I had to admire his ability to buck up and do what was necessary.

"This will be easy," I assured him, hoping he'd believe me. "We are going to go in there and have dinner as though we are just a regular couple. After the initially-raised eyebrows, we just want to give off a vibe of being any other normal couple so that we aren't the center of attention."

He raised an eyebrow at me, which I took as a challenge. "You want to go into a mob restaurant as a big black man with small white woman and then just blend in as a normal couple?"

When he put it like that, it did sound much harder, but I refused to be talked out of this. Plus, I'd heard they made a great Alfredo, and I was desperate to try it now that we were close enough for the smell of garlic to hit me even with the windows up.

"Yes, that's exactly what I want us to do," I stated firmly. "And if we can do it under the conditions you just described, then I'd say you could pull it off pretty much anywhere else."

Tank didn't look convinced, but he opened the door and met me at the front of the car anyway. He was still scanning, and I watched him give the outside of the restaurant one final glare before opening the door and allowing me to walk in front of him to the hostess in the foyer.

"Welcome to DiVinci's," she said in a perky voice, trying to force herself to look at me but glancing nervously at Tank while asking, "A table for two?"

She attempted to seat us in the middle of the restaurant, but Tank shook his head no, prompting me to ask if she had something along the wall that might be a little more private. Happy to comply, since the dinning room wasn't completely full, she led us to a table with a chair in the corner that allowed Tank to put his back to the wall and relax a little. I took the chair next to him instead of across the table so that I could see the restaurant, as well, instead of having my back to it.

She gave us our menus and walked away quietly. From the corner of my eye, I could see Tank looking at his menu and then glancing up to scan the other people around us before looking back down and repeating the pattern once again.

I put my hand on his wrist to get his attention and said, "No one here is going to attack us. You can relax."

"I am relaxed," he attempted to argue.

"No, you're not," I challenged. "You're glancing around as though a blast from your past is about to walk over and challenge you to a duel."

"A duel?" Tank repeated. "I haven't heard that phrase in years." Just before I congratulated myself for getting the big guy to mentally wander, he got serious again and said, "But you can't be certain that a threat isn't here."

"How many times have you read about this place getting shot up?" I asked.

Tank shrugged. "None that I know of."

"That's right," I agreed. "None in the whole time it's been in business. Do you know why that is?"

His eyebrows scrunched up in the middle, and he shook his head no.

"Because the rumor mill insists it's owned by the biggest mob family in New Jersey, so only an idiot would make a scene here or they'd risk being escorted out and never being heard from again," I explained calmly. "So, you are about as safe here as you can be outside of RangeMan. Relax, and for the next couple of hours, just pretend to be normal. People are watching us because you look uncomfortable, and we seem so different that they are wondering why we're here together."

"I'd be wondering the same thing," Tank replied.

"But not if you saw a couple together who appeared to be enjoying each other's company," I pointed out.

He tilted his head slightly and then softly admitted, "Probably not."

"Then look at that menu and not the three middle aged men, the table of women in dresses way too young for them, the young couple that I think will end the evening with a marriage proposal, the family who will have to leave before dessert because their kids can't behave that long, or the three other non-descript but thus far highly-judgmental tables for two," I said, rattling off what I had observed so far.

This time, he didn't even bother to cover up his surprise.

"What, you think you're the only one who knows how to scan a room?" I challenged.

Obviously I needed more work on my blank face, because I felt my lips curling up into a smile as Tank continued to look at me as though he were seeing me for the first time.

The waiter appeared at that moment and took our orders, giving Tank a chance to surprise me when he ordered lasagna instead of a salad as his meal.

As soon as we were alone without the menus to act as a distraction, he said, "So tell me what's going on with you and the boss."

I briefly choked on my water, getting us even more attention from our fellow diners. "What do you mean?"

He held me with a look that said playing dumb wasn't going to work.

"It's complicated," I offered, hoping he'd let it go at that.

"You were the one that said I needed to loosen up," he said, almost smiling. "I'm just making conversation."

"That's great. Let's try a different topic," I suggested, attempting to pull him off that idea.

We spent the next ten minutes bantering back and forth about why he considered it a very relevant subject to occupy us over dinner, while I blushed through it and attempted to divert him to something else.

When the waiter set down our entrees and offered cracked pepper, he was smiling at us as though listening to us pick on each other was the highlight of his evening. Doing a quick glance around the restaurant at all the straight faces and stiff people, I could see why we'd stick out in a good way.

The ice had been broken, so we managed to enjoy the rest of our meal, striking a balance of laughing without drawing unwanted attention to ourselves.

I got him to share with me how he managed to distract the widow at the funeral home tonight so that Grandma Mazur could see the body without notice. He said he'd glanced at the coffin on his way in and saw a flag draped over it, so he assumed the deceased was military. When he knelt in front of the widow, he told her he was a retired sergeant in the US Army, and he wanted to stop and let her know that all the men who followed her husband were grateful for his service. She told him about Mr. Elverson's tours and then took his handkerchief when she began to cry. That gave him the excuse he needed to get up and move on. I had to congratulate him on a brilliant conversation starter that allowed him to keep the widow's attention focused solely on him, allowing my grandmother to move around undetected.

After dessert, the waiter brought out our bill in a leather booklet and said, "I hope you don't mind me saying this, but you two make the most adorable couple. When you first came in and sat down, we were arguing about who had to wait on you and I drew the short straw, but you two are hilarious, and I can see why you're together."

Tank took the bill and smiled at the suddenly verbose waiter, slipping his credit card in to pay for our meal and handing it back, saying, "Thanks."

When the waiter disappeared, I looked at Tank and said, "Well, you've passed tonight with flying colors."

"Not really," he disagreed, surprising me.

"What?" I couldn't believe he didn't feel the same way. "What could have gone better?"

"You scoped out the dining room and committed every person here to memory with detail in only thirty seconds," he began earnestly. "And you had to keep the conversation going on a couple of occasions when I clammed up because I've never been good at talking about myself."

Then he covered my hand with his to be sure he had my attention. "I'll admit that when Ranger first suggested this, I wasn't sure it would serve much purpose for me. I'm big, and I don't mind that being my greatest contribution to the team. But you managed to challenge me and remind me that I have other things to offer than my size, and I need to practice those skills some, too, before they're gone completely. Plus, it's been awhile since anyone other than Ranger stood up to me, and I'd forgotten how much I like a good challenge."

I put my free hand on top of his and replied, "You know I think you're great, right?"

He completed the mountain of hands by placing his remaining one on top. "The feeling is mutual," he assured me, and then added, "Damn."

"What?" I pulled back and looked around, worried that after telling him to chill out when we arrived that someone had gotten the slip on us and we were in danger.

"You were spot on about the nervous couple," he said, pointing to the man on his knee in front of a now-crying woman.

I didn't tell him it had really just been a lucky guess that allowed me to get that one right.

Tank climbed out of the CRV back in the garage at Haywood. When we passed by each other so that I could get in the driver's seat to go home, he stopped and said, "Do you think we could do something like this again at the end when you're done with everybody else?"

Not sure I understood what he meant, I asked, "Like what?"

"I want to try reading a room like you did," he admitted a little quieter, as though he didn't want the guys in the control room to be able to pick up on our conversation.

"Sure." I gave in, realizing I was extending my time even more.

"I'll be looking forward to reading your report tomorrow about this exercise," he said, taking a step back and letting his voice fill to its usual volume. "You'd better be honest and not try to make me sound better than I was."

I waved him off and began driving home, grumbling the whole way about how Ranger was going to owe me big for this. Not only was it turning into an assignment with no end, since the guys seemed to want more than one turn, but now I had paperwork with a fast turnaround expectation and an eager audience.

At least tonight, the good company over dinner had been worth it.


	4. Red Envelopes for Cal

_The characters below came from the creative genius of JE._

_Jenny (JenRar) you are an amazing beta. Not only do you keep up with the barrage of chapters I send your way, but you make the most wonderful suggestions of how to make them all better. Thank you!_

**Chapter 4 – Red Envelopes for Cal**

I laughed out loud when I read Ranger's email from this morning. After my training with Tank, I'd been jazzed enough that I'd stayed awake to type up the full report of our time together, and then I'd sent a copy to Ranger, along with my take on the evening.

"_Tank__ passed with flying colors as far as I'm concerned. He seems to think he has a long way to go. Personally, I think he's a great __guy, and__ I don't know how anyone could measure up the standards he seems to hold himself to_."

Ranger had replied with two sentences. "_There's a reason he's my second in command. You're supposed to be training the guys, not taking them on some kind of elaborate Bachelorette dating program._"

I was feeling punchy today, which always got me in trouble. Even knowing that, I couldn't stop myself from typing out a single word, "_Jealous?_" and hitting send.

Feeling like I'd pulled the tiger's tail and lived to tell about it, I began going through my morning routine to get ready for a day out with Cal. I had been looking forward to this one since my brainstorming session three days before. The tattoo on Cal's head was great for a lot of things, but no amount of training would ever make it disappear, so I didn't feel the need to force him into a tea room with a command to act like he belonged as a customer. Instead, I thought he'd be the perfect candidate for shopping duty. I was going to force him to go to Macy's while I got a new dress and pair of shoes. Then I was taking Mary Lou to a late lunch at the hoity club at the Richmond Plaza hotel, with Cal tagging along as a bodyguard. I wanted him to practice doing guard duty close enough to be effective but without making all the old ladies drinking their mid-afternoon martinis run for the door.

After getting dressed in what I hoped was an acceptable pair of black slacks with a crisp white shirt, practically starched stiff enough to stand on its own, I hoped I could pull off the look of someone who belonged in the club at the Richmond Plaza. My exterior seemed passable, so I had to hope my interior didn't do something to screw this up.

Somehow, I had gotten up earlier than usual, despite staying up to type up my report, so I was ready for the day early, as well. I looked around for something to do and decided to waste a little time online instead of cleaning up my breakfast dishes. The excuse that I was already dressed for the day and shouldn't risk getting my white shirt dirty by sloshing soapy water on it seemed solid enough to justify surfing the internet over doing housework.

Just before shutting down my computer, I checked my email once more and saw Ranger had replied. "_Babe._"

Then it hit me. I had a golden opportunity here. Ranger told me that he wanted me to work with the entire leadership team, which included him, although he didn't have his name on the training roster anywhere. While there was nothing I could teach him about blending in or maintaining a cover that he didn't already know, there were a few areas of his life that I thought he _could_ use some development. One was his lack of verbal skills when they were desperately needed, and the other was his ability to lock up any emotional response. Sure, I wasn't one to judge about the emotional side, but I more than made up for it by talking. If he was going to lock down other avenues for effective communication, then he risked alienating clients or prospective clients that might be more inclined to trust him with their family's welfare if they believed he cared about them beyond a paycheck.

Telling myself that this was for his own good and not because I was inexplicably bold this morning, I replied, "_That response tells me nothing. I dare you tell me what you were really thinking instead of hiding behind that word. And just to get you __started, I'll__ confess that last night before I went to __sleep, I__ was thinking that it was wonderful to have Tank open up to me and let his guard down enough to laugh and share about his life. __But I__ remember feeling that as much as I enjoyed it, it would have been even more exciting if it had been you opening up to me instead_."

Before I could chicken out, I hit send and then shut down the computer so that I could leave and still get to Haywood on time.

I was pulling into the last parking space in the garage when the stairwell opened and Cal came out. I'd told him business casual and threatened to have Bobby drug him so that I could add red lips smiling on the flaming skull tattoo if he came out in anything black. He must have taken my threat seriously because walking toward me was a stacked man in olive trousers and a khaki button-up dress shirt that was open at the collar. Why was that sexy? What was it about seeing a guy's neck that warmed me in places not even remotely close to my neck?

Before I could get lost in those thoughts, Cal opened the passenger side door and folded himself into my car. Already he was getting major bonus points for not asking to drive, which almost made me feel guilty for forcing him to go to the mall with me.

"Thanks for not pestering me about wanting to drive," I blurted out.

He smiled and then verbally shot himself in the foot by saying, "I knew you wouldn't get out and hand over your keys, so I was hoping if I showed you enough respect now, I might be able to position myself in the driver's seat for wherever we go next."

He'd never know that his little bout of honesty was making me consider a trip to Victoria's Secret, too, just to make him suffer. Electing not to respond, I made my way to the mall while explaining what we were going to do.

"There are two legs of our time out this morning. The first is for you to shadow me at the mall. You need to be able to keep an eye on me without making me feel uncomfortable or scaring the sales associates or other customers in the process." It sounded so easy when I announced it that I worried I hadn't put enough thought into his time out.

"Are you supposed to know I'm there or not?"

He was obviously taking it seriously, which was a relief. If I'd tried this same trip with Lester, he'd have been planning all the stores he wanted to see me modeling clothes from.

"I know you're there, but I don't want you helping me pick out clothes, if that makes sense." I didn't know how to explain the balance I was looking for. I knew the guys were capable of tailing somebody in a stealthy way, but sometimes security needed to be present for the safety of the person being guarded without being so obtrusive the store had to shut down.

"So I can be everywhere you are, but I can't walk around with my gun in my hand," he summed up.

"Right," I quickly agreed, and then added a slight level of difficulty. "While we're there, someone – I'm not going to name them, so don't ask – is going to try to plant a small red envelope on me. You can't stop everyone who gets close from approaching me – after all, I'm going to need help from the clerks at the store – but you have to prevent them from planting that envelope."

"Do I have a description of the person I'm supposed to be blocking?" he asked, presenting me with another good question.

"Nope," I admitted, hoping this part of the plan didn't blow up in my face.

I'd asked Lula to do it, but she'd convinced me that the guys would see her coming and it would be too easy. I knew she was right, so I'd agreed to let her find somebody she knew from her old line of work that was really good at slipping things out of people's pockets. She said it should be just as easy to plant something in a pocket as it was to take something out of it, and since I had no idea who the person was either, I wouldn't give anything away when they approached me.

"What's in the envelope?" he wondered.

"Nothing that I know of, but we could pretend it's a death threat, or even a small bomb, if that would help you to bring your A game," I teased. Resigning myself to the fact that when I drove, there was never a decent parking space at the mall, I took one way out at the back and threw my keys in my purse.

"That's a good idea," he replied, not appearing to find humor in my suggestion. "I mean, a bomb big enough to take somebody out doesn't have to be large, and things do tend to explode around you more frequently than most other people."

That settled it... I was not only forcing him to go to Victoria's Secret, but I was going to make him bring me stuff to the fitting room. Before this day was over, I was going to make his whole face match the color of the flames on his head.

I smiled at the fact that Cal seemed to suffer from the same condition that Tank did. One hand was on the small of my back, and the other was at his hip, probably inches from a weapon he would pull if anything out of the ordinary happened. Once we were under the awning of the entrance, I spun around and put a hand on his very sculpted and hard chest. It took every bit of will power I had to keep from tracing the shape of his pecs and abs.

"Steph?" He sounded confused.

When I looked at my hand, I realized it was following the road map of the muscles there, so I pulled my hand away, as though the flames on his head were heating up his body and my skin had been burned. Shaking my head to clear it and hoping he wasn't about to ask me what I'd been doing, I spoke quickly, testing that old adage about good defenses actually being good offenses.

"You have to stop the constant scanning. If you walk into Macy's like that, every clerk is going to run away and we'll be surrounded by security in ten minutes or less."

"But you'll be safe," he countered, obviously missing the point of this exercise.

"Yes, but I'll also be pissed," I responded, telling myself I was doing this for Julie and any other teen or woman who was forced by their family to have a bodyguard but didn't want to feel like a leper shouting "unclean" and watching people flee away from them in fear. "You have to watch for threats without scaring off everyone around us. If you go in there acting like that, they'll lock down the mall, assuming there is a major threat to everyone inside. If I can't shop, this outing will be a complete failure," I warned him.

I didn't bother to say it was because I had a friend and family discount coupon of twenty-five percent off everything I purchased and it expired today, so if I couldn't use it because he had the threat level elevated then I'd be beyond pissed and RangeMan was going to owe me a new outfit at full price.

His forehead was furrowed, and I managed to keep from smiling at the way his tattoo was wrinkled now and appeared to be collapsing like the flames had gotten to it and it was falling in. He must have settled things in his own mind because he suddenly shifted, stood up straighter, and nodded at me. "I can do this," he announced, as though attempting to convince himself of the truth.

The smile that had been fighting for dominance took over my face then, so I told him, "I never doubted that was true."

We moved into the mall, and even though I could tell he was still scanning slightly, it did seem as though he was toning it down considerably, so I didn't fuss at him over it.

Coming into Marcy's was always a relaxing thing for me. Something about the soft lighting, no doubt installed to make everything look cleaner and more appealing, soothed me so that I stopped walking and just took a minute to soak up the moment.

"You all right?" Cal asked, probably wondering why I'd stopped and if he should be preparing for an assault of some sort that he'd missed in his initial scan. I decided there was no way he'd ever understand why I'd stopped, so I didn't bother explaining it and just nodded and moved to the ladies department instead.

I browsed the dress racks, beginning with the sale items in the hope of finding something perfect. I had to give Cal good marks for being patient and not asking if I was done yet, despite the number of dresses I held up and examined before deciding they wouldn't work and moving on. After twenty minutes, a sales associate approached and asked if she could help me find something in particular. I noticed Cal took two steps closer when she moved to me, but he obviously wasn't glaring, because after an initial nervous glance in his direction, she managed to focus on me.

After an hour of having her show me through some of their newer – and admittedly much more expensive – dresses, I found two that I dearly loved. I knew I couldn't waste any more time here, so I needed to somehow narrow down my choice, but I seemed to have lost my ability to make a decision.

It was Cal's voice that brought me back to the present when he said, "If it will get us out of this part of the store, I'll buy them both for you."

I glared at him and then decided if he was going to be impatient, I'd push him a little. "Which one should I get?"

He looked down, as though wishing the floor would crack open and swallow him whole to keep from having to avoid answering that question, which only make me want to force the issue.

"I'm not leaving here until you pick one."

Without hesitation, he lifted his hand and pointed at the dress on the right. "That one."

"Why?" I asked, genuinely curious.

Cal's mouth opened and then closed before he seemed to find the right words to say, "They're both pretty, but that one will show your legs better."

"Are you a leg man?" I blurted out before thinking.

"No," he answered, only turning slightly pink at the question. "But Ranger is."

"Do I want to know how you know that?" I wondered.

A shake of his head was the only response to my question. Then he grinned a little and his blush crept up on his face even more before admitting, "If you'd been shopping for something to wear with me, I'd have said the other one. Because there is something insanely sexy about seeing a woman's back to me."

I glanced between the two dresses and could see why he would have preferred the one with the beaded straps running from the collar down to the waist in the back of the dress, basically letting everything from my shoulder blades down to the top of my rear end show. The dress he'd suggested I get had a more solid back, but the front was lower cut and the shorter skirt had been given an uneven hem, which did draw people's eyes to the legs coming out from under it.

"Let's take this one to the shoe department, and if I can get something to do it justice, then we might be done here," I told him.

"Thank God. If I have to stay in the mall much longer, I think I'm going to explode," he replied.

I grinned at him as I intentionally walked a little closer to tell him, "Don't celebrate too soon... We still have to go to Victoria's Secret."

If I didn't know any better, I'd say he stumbled a little at that threat.

It didn't take nearly as long as it usually did to find shoes, mainly because the best salesperson I'd ever met was working in the department that day and she look one look at the dress and said, "What size do you wear, because I have the perfect thing to go with that."

Sure enough, she produced a pair of strappy heels that were a shimmery shade of silver and lifted my calves enough to set them off without making me feel like I was defying gravity at the same time.

She was more than happy to ring me up for the dress and the shoes and didn't complain at all about me wanting to use a discount coupon. If it were possible to tip her, I would have. When she gave me my credit card slip to sign, she packed the items in a large bag and then asked, "Do you want this, or do you want your eye candy to carry it?"

I laughed at her description of Cal but decided that would definitely be pushing him beyond what was realistic. "I'll take it," I assured her, getting a wink in return. I thought it was odd but shook it off because I really had appreciated her help.

The top of the dress was low enough that a special bra was definitely going to be needed, so I had all the justification I needed to force Cal into shopping for unmentionables for the next half hour. When we finished there and began making our way to the car, Cal relaxed and said, "Now that we're done, I'm glad to be out of there."

As I pressed the remote entry on my keychain, Cal took the bag from me to put it in the back on his way to the passenger side. After he opened the back of the CRV, I heard him exclaim, "Son of a bitch!"

It wasn't all that unusual for the guys to swear, but this seemed out of place, so I walked to the back and saw him holding a large red envelope.

"Where did that come from?" I asked, not sure where he'd found it.

"It was sitting right on top of the shoe box in the top of the bag. I was so weirded out by the cashier winking at you that I didn't think to check the bag, and I know better. Damn it, you'd be dead right now if this were something other than a mock exercise." He was obviously taking this much harder than I'd meant for him to.

"Cal, relax," I interrupted, not liking the sound of him criticizing himself like that. "I didn't notice it, either, and she handed it directly to me."

"I'd been so focused on someone approaching us that I never thought your purchase could have been a means to threaten you." He was clearly not giving up on this.

"Get in," I jumped in once more. "We have a lunch date that I can't be late for, so we have another chance to get this right."

He followed my directions to get in, but the stiff way he was sitting in his seat and staring out the window told me he was still internally beating himself up.

When we arrived at the Richmond Plaza, I saw Mary Lou's van in the front of the lot. She was waving at me and grinning from ear to ear, obviously thrilled to have an excuse to come to such a nice spot for a special treat.

I held up a finger to let her know we'd get out in one minute and then turned to give Cal his assignment for the day. "You have to shake off our trip to the mall and get your head back in the game for the next part of our day."

He looked at me and nodded once, completely serious and obviously putting all kinds of pressure on himself to get this part right to make up for missing the red envelope at Macy's.

"So here, you can act like a bodyguard while Mary Lou and I have a late lunch. You can eat with us and keep a watch out for any more red envelopes, but you can't scare the wait staff or keep the water boy from approaching the table. Your presence is hard to ignore, but you have to practice scanning for problems while not bringing down the mood around you," I explained, hoping he could shake off what he saw as a failure earlier.

"Is someone going to have another envelope in here?" he asked.

"I honestly don't know," I replied. I really didn't know. Lula and I had discussed it, but she'd only mentioned one person helping her, even though she knew we'd be here for lunch, so I had no idea if we were going to get another delivery.

"Okay," he said, slipping out of the car and scanning around once without attempting to hide his critique of the area. After that, he toned it down and we walked over to Mary Lou's van to enter the Plaza together.

We were seated at a corner table, and Cal wasted no time in taking the seat in the corner, slightly hidden by a large potted palm plant to his right. That small amount of greenery was all it took for him to blend into the background. I could still see him scanning everything, but he really did seem less obtrusive. I made a mental note to somehow mention that in his report. I wasn't sure what he was doing, but the waiter didn't seem the least bit put off by him being with us, so it must have been working.

Mary Lou and I chatted through our food, the way we always did when we were together, and we planned out Bobby's day with me, which was to be tomorrow. She was letting me borrow her boys for a few hours, so I had to go over everything necessary for her to prepare them and for me to remember one of them had a severe nut allergy and the other one had an anaphylactic reaction to bee stings. Not that I planned on taking them to a peanut farm or a flower garden, but it was still important stuff to know.

After spending two hours talking and laughing, I figured we'd taxed Cal long enough. I had to admit that his ability to fade into the background was damned impressive, and I'd decided if I ever needed a shadow again because of a crazy, I wouldn't mind at all if Cal was it.

We paid the bill, and as we approached the front door, a man in a black suit approached us to ask, "Was everything with your visit good?"

Before I could even blink, Cal had the man up against the wall with both hands behind his back and cuffs on his writs.

"Cal!" I couldn't believe he'd reacted like that. It wasn't unusual for a manager to ask people if they'd enjoyed their visit. I couldn't believe he'd just accosted someone like this.

The man currently plastered to the wall managed to pull his head back just enough to say, "Right side pocket."

Cal looked at me and said, "Do you want to do the honors?"

I took a wild guess that he was asking me to search the guy's pocket, so I slowly put my hand in his suit pocket and pulled out a red envelope that had my name on the front. I looked at Cal and asked, "How did you know?"

He grinned at me and said, "Horrible sentence structure made me suspect it, but the shoes gave it away."

When I looked down, the man was wearing black boots just like the guys at RangeMan wore. They definitely didn't belong with the clothes he had on. "Did Lula ask you to do this?" I asked him, glad that Cal was relaxing his grip.

"Yeah, she said she had a favor to ask of me, and since I'm taking acting classes at night, this was a chance for me to practice," he admitted, rolling his shoulders after Cal released his hands from the cuffs.

I thanked him for his help, and then we made our way outside. Mary Lou was excited to get home and tell Lenny all about her lunch and get the boys ready for their afternoon with me, so we said goodbye quickly in the parking lot.

Cal and I rode in the car together, laughing about the look on the guy's face when Cal made him and pushed him to the wall. I had to commend him on not only identifying a threat but immobilizing him against a wall that was completely out of the view of the people in the dining room. It contained the scene we might have made if he had just gone for the closest vertical surface available to him.

"Thanks for today, Steph," Cal said when we got back to Haywood. Then he looked down at his hands, as though his fingers were the answer to life's greatest mysteries.

Enough time lapsed that I looked at them too and noticed his cuticles could use a little work, but they definitely weren't thrilling enough to hold my attention past that.

When he cleared his throat, I looked at him as he asked, "Is there any way when you finish with everybody that you can make time to take me out again? I think after lunch, I could do better at the mall, but I'd rather get it right before assuming I've got it."

At this rate, I would never finish. "Sure, I'll let you know after I'm finished, and we'll find some time to hit the mall again."

"I never thought a sentence like that would make me happy," he admitted, "but thank you."

He jumped out then and ran to the stairs. I decided I'd been through enough for one day, so I drove home, glad it was early enough that I could write all this up and file my report for the day before dinner. I had some brain food left in my freezer, and I was past ready to dig in. As nice as the plaza was, for that same amount of money, I could have gotten four times as much food at McDonald's.

I turned on my laptop, ready to get the report written before I lost the details in my head, and saw that I had one email. When I noticed Ranger's name, I wondered if I really wanted to know what he'd said. I had thrown down the gauntlet without thinking this morning, but having a few hours to reflect on it made me wonder if I'd made a huge mistake.

Finally deciding I was acting like a coward, something I despised, I quickly clicked to open the message and saw it had a message attached. "Babe, an encrypted file is attached. If you can figure out how to open it and make out the message, then it will tell you exactly what you want to know. It sounds like you were challenging me, and while I won't turn down such an obvious dare, I can't make it easy for you, either."

I tried to open the file by just clicking on it and failed because it needed a password. I was both irritated and relieved by that. Telling myself I'd figure out how to get the file open after I typed my report on Cal, I had the perfect motivation to get my paperwork finished in record time.

He might think that by making it more difficult, I'd give up, but knowing that file contained a glimpse into Ranger's emotions was all the motivation I needed to get into it.

He had taken my dare and issued one in return. If he thought that was going to slow me down, he had no idea who he was up against.


	5. Bobby and the Mini People

_I deserve no credit for the characters below created by JE. _

_Jenny (JenRar), you are a fantastic beta, and I count myself lucky to be able to work with you. Thank you for your patience in correcting my many mistakes and for your gentle suggestions of ways to make this story better._

**Chapter 5 - Bobby and the Mini People**

I wasted most of my morning trying different password combinations and failing every time. I wasn't getting a warning message that I'd exceeded the number of attempts for the login, so I just kept punching in words or phrases that I thought made sense for Ranger. Finally, I got frustrated and typed in _Someday_, alluding to the mysterious time when he thought we might be able to be more than just friends who occasionally shared a bed.

When the document opened, I stood up and jumped up and down, feeling like I'd just won a race. Well, a metaphorical race at least, because if I'd run a real race, I'd be collapsed in a heap on the floor, panting and unable to catch my breath.

A quick look at the clock on my computer told me I'd spent a lot more time typing in password attempts than I'd thought, because I needed to leave in ten minutes to get Bobby, and I still hadn't fixed my hair. But the document on my laptop was open and just sitting there staring at me. So I compromised and grabbed a scrunchie, figuring the guys weren't hair police so it didn't really matter how bad it looked today.

With that taken care of, I stood, not trusting myself to lose track of time if I sat down to read whatever Ranger had written.

_Proud of you, Babe. I knew you would figure out how to get into this. You hinted that I needed to work on my emotional sharing, so I'll tell you how I felt when I read the report of your time with Tank and how you found him fun to be around and surprisingly talkative once he got started. First, I was impressed that you got him to open up. I've known Tank a long time, and it usually takes a substantial amount of booze to make him spill about anything of importance. Not surprisingly, you accomplished the same thing without the liquor. Then, after I thought about it, I realized I had basically asked you to spend time one-on-one with the men I admire most. The guys I would vouch for as the most honorable men I know. Undoubtedly, you will discover that to be true as you get to know them. Which caused me to spend an extra hour in the gym, wishing it were possible to kick my own ass. ~ R_

I read his note four times, amazed that he'd said so much at once. Trying to get him engaged in that many sentences in person would have required at least five or six questions on my part and perhaps a glare and eye roll as a threat, as well. My hand was on the top of the chair so that I could sit and read it once more when I realized I absolutely had to leave now or I'd risk being late for Bobby.

I didn't want Ranger to think I hadn't gotten into the document, so I hastily replied, "_Got your note. And while I'm nearly speechless at how many words you used, I can't help but notice that you still didn't tell me if you were jealous. I mean, you said you would vouch for the guys and that you wanted to kick your own ass, but those are more actions than emotions. I was after the emotions behind your use of the word, 'Babe.' Come __on, Ranger__, I know you can do it_."

There wasn't time for me to add anything else, so I hit send, grabbed my purse, and flew to the parking lot to get my car. Lady luck was with me because I didn't hit a single red light and the three stop signs between my apartment and the office didn't have any cops near them to pull me over for running them without fully stopping.

When I pulled into the garage, I had one minute to spare and Bobby was literally walking out the stairwell door, so my timing was perfect. I tried taking a few deep breaths to settle my system from the mad dash to get here.

Leave it to Bobby to ask, "Are you okay, Bomber? You look a little stressed."

Curse these guys and their supersonic skills of perception.

"What kind of skills?" Bobby asked, not bothering to hide his smile.

"Just get in," I ordered, sorry that I sounded as grumpy as I did. My morning had been going so well. Thinking back over Ranger's note allowed me to reclaim a little of my previous happiness and chill a little so that by the time we pulled up in front of the school Mary Lou's boys attended, I was back and my former bitchy self was nowhere to be found.

Wisely, Bobby had been silent on the drive over, so I shut the car down and threw my keys in my purse to give him the scoop for today. "We're going to pick up Mary Lou's two boys and take them to play miniature golf."

Bobby began a series of blinking that almost seemed fast and systematic enough that I wondered if he were trying to communicate with me in Morse code. Realizing that it didn't really matter because I didn't have a clue how to send or receive an SOS, I gave up trying to understand and called out his name. "Bobby? Are you all right?"

"We're going to pick up two children and keep them with us as we play miniature golf?" Obviously he'd heard the instructions, but the way he repeated them made me wonder if he was feeling well.

"Do we need to do this on another day?" I wondered.

"No, I just don't understand how this is going to help me." He was the first person to be honest and even hint that they thought this was not going to serve a purpose.

"If you'll keep listening, I'll explain the rest of what you need to know," I told him, attempting to look stern.

"I'm sorry. I should have waited to say anything." He seemed sincere in his apology, so I pressed on.

"Like I said, we're picking them up, and we need to do it in a way that none of the other parents or school workers will question. So if you go up there looking as though you are expecting trouble, the cops or child protective services will no doubt be called in, and I'd really rather not have the police involved in today's training exercise."

Bobby nodded when I spoke about the police, and I wondered if he knew about Joe showing up when I was out with Lester.

"Anyway..." I struggled to pull my focus back to Bobby. "After we successfully pick them up, we are going to take them out for some fun. This will give you a chance to practice your skills working as a bodyguard with children. Pretend a high-profile client asked you or RangeMan to protect their children for an afternoon outing."

"I'd follow along at a distance small enough to step in if there was trouble but far enough away to not disturb what they were doing," he replied, as though that would invalidate the need for my outing.

"No, in the kids' eyes, you'd be stalking them and scare them so much, they wouldn't be able to have any fun and would possibly have nightmares about the man in black who'd followed them all day," I said, trying to explain the difference in how he had to work if he was assigned to young people versus adults or even teenagers.

His shoulders fell slightly, and I could see I'd made my point. "I'm not really good with kids," Bobby confessed softly, as though he was ashamed of admitting to any kind of weakness.

"Neither am I," I admitted, "but these boys belong to my best friend, so I can vouch for their coolness. If you'll let yourself relax, you'll probably have fun."

I grimaced when I said the last part, and of course, Super Bobby picked up on it.

"What was that look for? Are they only cool kids for their mother and you're remembering them turning into little hellions when their parents leave?"

Honestly, what kind of strange life had Bobby led that caused him to be more afraid of children than I was?

"No," I promised, trying to figure out how to layer on the next degree of difficulty. "But to add to the challenge of our time out, at some point, we are going to be approached by someone representing a threat to the boys' safety. I don't know when they're coming or what they'll do, but you have to find a way to be on guard for whatever that mystery person is going to attempt to do, all the while keeping yourself relaxed enough that you don't cause the kids to worry about what's happening."

Bobby ran his hand over his face and then said, "Shit, you're good at this."

I couldn't stop myself from smiling at his praise. It shouldn't mean so much to me, but after causing the guys to come to my rescue countless times, it was such a relief to finally feel like I was doing something right and they were the ones in need of help.

We stepped out of my CRV and approached the group of waiting parents at the front of the school.

Bobby bumped me with his shoulder to get my attention and said, "I don't have a lot of experience with kids. They don't usually like me."

I narrowed my eyes at his words and looked Bobby over. Like all the Merry Men, he was gorgeous. He was only three or four inches taller than I was, but I was positive that he was at least twice as broad. I could easily hide behind him and never be spotted. His hair was braided in small rows with black beads at the bottom, holding them in place. And even though I'd told him to dress casually, he was in a pair of black jeans and a dark gray t-shirt, which only served as the perfect frame for his muscular build. When he smiled, he could seem so gentle, but he didn't walk around smiling much, so to someone who didn't know him, I could see why they'd find him a bit frightening.

"Maybe you just haven't found the right kid yet," I threw out as the only response my mind could come up with. "Just pretend that these two are short grown-ups and stop thinking of them as kids."

He had the most adorable expression on his face when I suggested he think of them as mini people. It was like he was trying to reprogram his brain into accepting that as possible but failing.

While Bobby was lost in his head, Mary Lou's boys came running up to us, grinning from ear to ear. "Hey, Stephanie! Are we really going to play with you this afternoon?"

"You sure are," I promised, placing a hand on each of them to turn them to face Bobby.

He had lost the confused expression, but I wasn't sure his blank face was much of an improvement.

"Guys, this is my friend, Bobby, and he's coming with us today," I told them. Then I glared at Bobby, hoping he'd get the message to relax before they moved any closer to me. "Bobby, these are my little friends, Evan and Carson."

Evan, who was the older of the two at a whopping nine years old, looked at Bobby and then up at me to ask, "Is he coming to be sure we behave?"

I could see Bobby cringe at that question, obviously realizing his blank face wasn't going to cut it today.

"No," I assured him. "Bobby is coming with us because he's never had the chance to play miniature golf before, so we are going to teach him how."

For all I knew, Bobby was a putt-putt pro, but I figured he'd play along with whatever I said, so I laid it on a little thicker. "He's a little nervous because he's a big guy and everybody expects him to be good at it, but he's not sure he can do it."

Carson, who was the more tenderhearted of the two, tugged on my hand and then nodded his head in Bobby's direction. I felt like he was asking for something, but without words, I didn't know what he wanted. Mary Lou said when he was nervous, he often clammed up. I smiled at him, hoping that would settle his seven-year-old worries a little. I guess I answered whatever unasked question had been laid out there because Carson cleared his throat, dropped my hand, and took three small steps closer to Bobby to say, "When I'm nervous, I get quiet, too. Don't worry. We'll show you what to do."

Bobby's eyes softened, and he knelt down to be on eye level with Carson. "Thanks. I'll try to listen so that you don't have to tell me more than once."

That earned him a huge grin from both boys and one from me, as well.

"All right, let's get out of here so that Bobby's lesson can begin."

I noticed a few people watching us, but when the boys started talking and pretending to argue about who was going to be the better teacher, we were no longer attention-worthy. The kids were obviously happy, so there was no reason to object to our taking them. I didn't want any of my own, but spending time with Mary Lou's family always made me understand a little better why she seemed so content with her life.

We all got in the car, and before I put the key in the ignition, I turned around and said, "Okay, boys... The rules are the same as they are with your parents. The car won't start unless you have your seatbelts on." Mary Lou had warned me they hated wearing them and would try every time to avoid clicking them.

I stared at them, and they seemed intent on staring me down in return until I heard Bobby say, "Oh, man, I forgot to put my seatbelt on." Then he made a big production of pulling it around and saying, "Listen for it," before clicking the belt in the holster. "There it is! I'm ready to go." Then he turned and looked at Carson to say, "Okay, now we'll listen for your click."

Unable to say anything because I didn't want to interrupt the good thing he had going on to motivate the boys, I spun back around in my seat and listened for the two clicks to signal we were all ready to go.

The parking lot at the Fun Times Mini-Golf was completely empty, which was good news. I didn't really want a crowd, and I wasn't sure how to keep the kids entertained if we had to wait long periods between our turn to play each hole.

Carson had appointed himself Bobby's teacher, so he took his hand and pulled him to the office for us to pay and select our clubs and balls. When Bobby looked back at me, slightly stunned at the blind trust being given to him by the child in front of him, I made a motion that he should move and just go with it. Then I turned to see Evan watching his little brother.

"What's that face mean?" I asked, wondering if he would tell me.

"I've never seen him do that before," Evan confessed about his younger sibling. "Usually, he's hiding behind Mom's legs when someone new is around, and if it were someone as big and scary as this guy – Bobby – is, then I doubt even she could have convinced him to come out and say hello."

"Well, maybe Carson realizes that Bobby is actually a great guy, that he's just a little shy," I attempted to explain the connection of the two seemingly opposite people ahead of us.

"Come on," I said, motioning to the office. "We can't let those two have all the fun; we have to show them how you win at this game."

Never one to back down from a sports-related challenge, his eyes practically sparkled and he smiled. "They are so going down."

We hadn't officially declared teams, but something told me that Evan was now officially competing for the mini-golf championship title.

I had to laugh at Bobby taking all the tips to heart that Evan and Carson gave him before he played every hole. If he hadn't been so adamant before we picked them up from school that he didn't do well with kids, I would have assumed he had a former life as a teacher. By the ninth hole out of eighteen, the boys were completely enamored with him, and by the twelfth, I was pretty taken with this side of my favorite medic, too.

We were having so much fun laughing at each other's attempts on the thirteenth hole that I had totally forgotten about the possibility of someone approaching us as a part of the situation this day out was supposed to simulate. Letting my guard down was my first mistake. Not taking note of the unlucky number on the hole was my second error.

There was a windmill you had to play through to reach the hole on the other side. It was big enough that you had to walk through it, so we each performed our initial tee shot, allowing the ball to disappear into the darkness of the windmill, and then we moved as a group through to the other side. We were in the dark long enough for our eyes to adjust so that we were blinking from the burst of bright sunlight on the other side.

I walked out first, with Evan and Carson behind me. Little Carson was still clinging to Bobby's hand as he brought up the rear of our group.

I was looking for my ball when Bobby yelled, "Get down!"

Instinct and a blind trust in my guys caused me to hit the ground and pull Evan down with me. A man dressed in all black appeared in front of me, as though he had risen from the bushes and flowers that had been planted around this part of the course. Carson was too far away from me for me to grab him, and he seemed intent on staying in front of Bobby. When the man in black raised a gun, I panicked, not knowing if it was real or not and fearing for Carson's life. Mary Lou would never forgive me if something happened to her children.

Bobby picked up Carson, twisted them so that he was in front of the little boy, and caused him to fall into the mulch and flowers next to the faux green we were standing on. He rammed at the would-be gunman, ripped the weapon from his hands, threw him on the ground with a knee in his back, and put cuffs on him before I could even focus on what was happening.

"Uncle Jack?" Evan called out to the man on the ground.

"Yeah, buddy, it's me," the cuffed assailant replied, despite his face being pressed into the Astroturf.

Jack was Lenny's brother, so I had to assume that he was the person Mary Lou had tagged to pretend to attack us. And based on how calm Evan was, she had no doubt warned the kids about it so that they weren't scared. Bobby took the cuffs off and moved away from Jack so he could get up. I let Even go when he pulled away from me to speak to his uncle and then realized Carson hadn't moved from where he'd fallen when Bobby pushed him out of the line of fire.

"Bobby." I got his attention and pointed to his newly-made friend on the ground.

"Shit," he replied, and then corrected himself. "Shoot." He moved slowly, calling out to Carson, probably worried that the little boy would be afraid of him after seeing him assault his uncle.

"Stephanie!" Bobby yelled once he knelt beside Carson.

When I looked over to see what had him so worked up, the carefree guy that had been playing golf was gone and the hardcore professional medic was in his place. I couldn't figure out how that little stumble could have injured Carson enough to cause Bobby to flip into that mode, but I moved quickly to their side to see Bobby lifting Carson into his arms.

"He's in shock," Bobby told me, letting me know this was much more serious than a scraped knee or elbow. "Does he have any allergies? There's no way fear did this."

"Peanut butter," I replied, and then got confused, thinking that might not be right. "Or bees," I added. "He's either allergic to peanut butter or bee stings."

"I don't have an EpiPin with me," he reported. "But we don't have time for an ambulance to come. His breathing is getting too shallow, and his throat is swelling," Bobby told me as he opened his mouth and looked in.

"Mary Lou gave me one," I told him, literally dumping my purse out on the ground to get to the elusive jumbo-looking pen that she'd insisted I bring with me, even though she hadn't told me what I was supposed to do with it.

Bobby grabbed it from my hand, put it in his mouth to take off the lid, and then rammed it into Carson's thigh. He dropped the pen after he was done with it and used the heel of his hand to massage the muscle while muttering under his breath. "…come on, little guy. Just relax and let it work…just breathe and it will kick in…come on, little man. Stay with me."

My heart was breaking as I stood there completely powerless. On the one hand, I felt horrible for borrowing Mary Lou's children and then obviously hurting one of them after promising to be careful. Even stronger than that, I ached for the pain in Bobby's voice as he pleaded with the child lying limp on the ground. Just as my tears started to cloud my vision, I saw Carson's chest rise higher than it had been before Bobby lifted him from the ground and pulled him to his chest.

At first, I worried that meant the pen wasn't working, but when I listened beyond the sound of my heart beating in my ears, I realized Bobby's words had changed and he was no longer pleading but encouraging as he told Carson, "That's right, kiddo. You're okay…you did good…just hang out with me for a few more minutes while that takes hold, and you'll be just fine."

The little hands that had been hanging limp suddenly jerked and grabbed hold of Bobby's t-shirt, somehow managing to find a fistful of material to cling to despite the tight fit of the gray garment.

I figured they didn't need an audience, so I moved back over to Jack and Evan.

"Jack, I'm so sorry about this," I apologized, feeling like I needed some practice before I had to face my best friend with the news of what I allowed to happen to her baby.

He seemed a little pale but tried to offer a half smile at my words. "It's okay. I'm just so glad he was here." Jack pointed to Bobby, who clearly had the situation under control. Then he reminded me why Mary Lou would never let Jack take his nephews anywhere alone, despite the fact they adored him. "I'm going to head out. You don't need me here."

"You're welcome to stay... We'll probably just take them back home, and I know they'd love to spend some time with you," I offered, not surprised when he turned and walked away. Jack was a great guy, but according to his brother, he was allergic to any kind of responsibility. So if you wanted to have fun, he was your guy, but if you needed him to take care of somebody, he'd run every time.

Jack disappeared as quickly as he'd popped up, and Evan came over, pulling my arm around his shoulder for comfort. "He'll be okay," Evan announced to both of us as we stood there together. "He just gets a little nervous and has a headache afterwards, but we don't have to take him to the hospital anymore."

Bobby nodded and thanked Evan for the information.

"I guess we should head home," I announced, not sure what else to do.

Carson spoke up at my announcement. "No, I don't want to go home. I want to finish the game." Despite his brave words, his hands were still gripping Bobby as though he were afraid to let go.

"Why don't we watch your brother and Stephanie play a hole or two and see how you feel by the final one?" Bobby bargained with the small bundle in his massive arms.

I could barely see Carson's head nod his agreement. When Bobby attempted to stand, causing Carson to have to separate from his chest, his little hands pulled harder at the material, making it clear he wasn't in favor of being pulled away from his security blanket.

"How about a piggy back ride?" Bobby offered, waiting for a response before forcing him to move and climb up his back, peeking over his shoulder to see what was happening around them.

Once Carson was sufficiently relocated, Evan picked up his club and ball and then walked over to Bobby, holding out his fist to bump it with his younger brother. "Thanks for letting us play."

Carson nodded without saying anything, but his free hand did grip Bobby's shoulder tighter.

Evan looked at Bobby and said, "He gets nervous about it happening again after he's stung, but you handled it good, so he's doing all right."

"Thanks," Bobby replied, ruffling Evan's hair with his hand before saying, "Now why don't you show us how the next hole should work."

And just like that, some sort of normalcy was reestablished. I tried not to stare, but I did notice Bobby talking to the little burden on his back and holding his wrist every few minutes, no doubt trying to subtly take his pulse.

At the eighteenth hole, Bobby asked Carson if he wanted to play, and the little boy finally let go of his grip and allowed himself to be placed on the ground. He squinted a little more than I remembered him doing on the early holes, but after five hits, he finally got his ball in the hole and ran to Bobby to hug his legs in celebration.

They sat talking on the bench at the side of the green while Evan and I played through, waiting patiently for us to finish. After we totaled our scores, Evan grabbed the card, wanting to take it home to show his dad how he'd done.

We took turns clicking our seatbelts to drive back to their home, and I made my way safely back to the neighborhood where they lived.

When we pulled up into the driveway, Mary Lou came out and met us on the porch with a big smile on her face. She was always a happy person, so it wasn't unusual, but this was an even happier face than normal. I realized she was watching Evan climb out and run toward her holding up the score card as evidence of his victory at miniature gold. The obvious love on her face was what every child deserved to see, and I found myself envying these boys, who would never have a day that they had to wonder if their mother loved them.

Bobby got out and opened Carson's door, talking too quietly for me to hear. When he stood up, he had the boy in his massive arms, carrying him up to the porch where his mother was waiting.

Mary Lou was still smiling, but there clearly shock on her face, as well, most likely at the idea that Carson had gotten comfortable enough with a strange man to let him hold him that way.

I was just catching up when I heard Bobby tell Mary Lou about the bee sting and his response with the EpiPen. The color literally drained from her face as Bobby recounted the appearance of Jack with a gun in his hand and the response of pushing the children out of the way before eliminating the threat.

Before Bobby could finish the story, Carson lifted his head from Bobby's shoulder and said, "You should have seen Mr. Bobby. He did exactly what you do, only he was a lot faster. Then he talked to me the whole time and rubbed my leg so it didn't sting from the pen."

A single tear escaped down Mary Lou's cheek at Carson's version of what happened.

Bobby misinterpreted it and began to apologize. "I'm so sorry I wasn't more careful. I should have asked about allergies ahead of time and scanned the area for any potential threats to his health, but I got lost in the fun and just pushed him out of the way and right into an area full of blooms and pollen."

"Bobby," Mary Lou interrupted, "you did the right thing in every possible way. I'm just so grateful you were there and were willing to take care of my baby. I can't thank you enough for watching over him and then continuing to handle the clinginess that comes after an attack like that."

Bobby looked down at Carson, as though realizing for the first time that the boy was literally clinging to him. A soft smile came over both their faces before Bobby said, "You're a really cool kid, did you know that?"

Carson nodded, as though it were a universally-acknowledged fact and replied, "And for a guy that had never played miniature golf, you're pretty cool, too."

"Did they have anything to eat?" Mary Lou asked.

"No," I quickly responded. "After the bee, I was afraid to feed them anything out of a fear there would be peanut butter hidden in it."

"All right, boys, you had a big afternoon, so let's have some cookies inside," she announced, causing a great deal of noise to arise from her boys and giving Carson enough reason to finally pull away from Bobby to move on his own.

"Are you two coming?" Mary Lou asked, obviously wanting us to feel welcome.

"We'd better get back," I replied, seeing that Bobby was a little uncomfortable still.

We were saying our goodbye when Carson ran back out and wrapped his arms around as much of Bobby's legs as he could reach. "Thanks for taking care of me," he said, looking up at his new friend with such innocence, it made my chest tighten.

Bobby ruffled his hair, much like he did to me, and told him, "No problem, and thanks for showing me the ropes, too."

"Can we do it again sometime?" Carson asked, obviously knowing that a little pressure at the right time might get the outcome he wanted.

"I'd like that, but maybe next time, we could do something like Laser Tag, where there aren't any bees," Bobby countered, getting a huge grin in return.

On the ride back to Haywood, Bobby broke the silence to say, "Thanks for today, Bomber. I needed that push to make me step outside my comfort zone."

"Geez, Bobby, I should be thanking you for saving the life of Mary Lou's son," I pointed out.

He waited until we pulled into the garage to speak again. "Do you think after you're done with everyone else, you and I could go out again? I mean, I had fun and relaxed at the end, but you had to cover for me at the beginning because I was scaring the boys, and then when I responded to a threat, it was so over the top that I ended up almost killing one of them myself."

I wasn't even surprised anymore to get that question. I was beginning to think of this as the assignment that would never end anyway. "Sure, but for the record, I plan on saying that you relaxed immediately and handled everything perfectly."

"Don't do that," Bobby jumped in quickly. "Your honesty is one of the things I most admire about you. Whatever you write up in your report needs to detail the day exactly as it happened."

How these guys could enjoy hanging out with me was a complete mystery, since I had no hope of ever meeting their standards for perfection. "Good enough" wasn't a phrase they accepted for themselves.

Bobby leaned over, kissed my cheek, and then ruffled my hair before getting out and jogging over to the stairs. I made my way back to my apartment, deciding to call in for a pizza for dinner to avoid having to be around anyone else this evening.

While I was waiting on the delivery guy, I pulled up my email and saw a note from Ranger. Deciding that whatever he had to say about my pushy note earlier couldn't be any worse than nearly having a child die while he was in my custody, so I clicked it without flinching.

_You never disappoint, Babe. I've always been a man of action, so trying to break that habit is hard. For you, I'll try. The thought of you enjoying a night with one of my men made me want to pound in Tank's face and then tell you all the horrible things he's done in his life. Not that I believe he's a bad man but just to keep you from seeing the true level of his integrity and being won over by it. If that's jealousy, then the answer to your question is yes. But I didn't do anything. I held myself back in order to give my men a chance to experience what it's like to have time with you, even though the thought of it makes me want to threaten them if they look at you in the wrong way. I don't know what that is – foolishness, I suppose. I've known you for a few years now and you've never pushed me like this. Why the sudden interest in emotions – especially mine? ~R_

Damn it, he had to turn the tables at the end, didn't he? I read his note three more times, trying to keep the silly, school girl grin off my face at the idea that Ranger was admitting to being jealous about the guys getting to spend so much time with me. I refused to let myself analyze what it could mean, because I didn't want to talk myself out of the good mood I was suddenly floating on.

He didn't tell me how long he thought he'd be in New York cleaning house down there, but I was guessing it would take more than a few days. Since I had a newfound sense of power when we emailed, I decided to take advantage of it. Hitting reply, I decided I'd step outside my comfort zone, and for once in my life, I was just going to admit to exactly how I was feeling. Obviously Ranger had taken a big risk in opening up to me, and if I returned the favor, we might both benefit from this little exercise.

_I have a confession to make: I like the new talkative Ranger. I appreciate you not showing up and bashing in Tank's face and reputation. For one, it would have completely ruined the evening, and it would have made it more difficult for the other guys to relax when it was their turn for training with me. To answer your question, I never pushed you on your feelings before because I was never willing to cop to mine. But fair is fair, so I'll admit that hearing you talk about being jealous of the time I was spending with the guys made me happy. Your actions, words, and facial expressions don't always convey the same message, and to be honest, you confuse the hell out of me. But in the black and white of a typed message, you're much easier to understand. It's nice._

I attached my report of Bobby's day out and then sent a copy to Tank, as well. Despite his warning for me not to paint him too positively, when I thought back on the day and how horribly it could have gone, I had nothing but good things to say about him. After all Bobby said I was honest, and as far as I was concerned, I wrote the truth.


	6. Dancing with Hector

_JE created the characters below, I'm just using them for fun._

_Jenny (JenRar) I couldn't do this story without your beta skills. Thank you for your suggestions and corrections. _

**Chapter 6 – Dancing with Hector**

After sending out my report about the day with Bobby, I didn't have anything on the docket until Hector and I were scheduled to go out together. He was the most difficult of the guys to plan for. I didn't know him as well as the others, which wasn't really saying much, since it's not like I was weaving friendship bracelets for any of the guys while searches were running. There was a slight language barrier, I knew he was gay, and I'd never seen him soften his rough exterior – ever. Taking him to a ritzy hotel to be a bodyguard wasn't going to work because he wasn't just intimidation like Cal... He instilled fear in most people that had to look him in the eye. I struggled to find a way to set something up that would be in any way realistic.

In the end, I gave up and decided to just try having him practice having fun. Lester had said Hector liked to throw knives, hack into secure computer systems, and patrol the back alleys of Stark for shits and giggles, but none of those were really appealing to me, so I was going to try to make him have some fun my way, and if he could pull off looking like he was enjoying himself, then I'd consider the night a huge success.

Because I knew the next day was empty, I stayed up late watching movies and wondering if I was making a huge mistake in talking about my feelings with Ranger. In truth, I hated opening up, so forcing him to do it could implode on us and ruin the friendship we had. After getting myself thoroughly worked up, I finally shut off the television – every channel seemed to be running some sort of chick flick, where the guys gushed on endlessly about how much he loved the leading lady. It was fun to watch from time to time, but tonight, it was just pissing me off. The lack of realism was irritating because no man, but especially not Ranger, would ever wax poetic about his feelings like they did in the movies. It was that train of thought that got me back online, opening a new email to Ranger.

_I've been __thinking, and__ I'm sorry if I've been pushy. I hate it when people try to make me do things that are not __me, so__ it's wrong to __try to turn__ you into something you have no interest in being. Feel free to tell me to take my demands for more information about what you're thinking and feeling and shove them. You said you were a man of action, so I'd totally understand if you decide to stick with something like that because it's who you are. Honestly, I wasn't trying to change __you. I__ just wanted to _understand_ you. It would be nice to know if the man I think I know is the real man, not just the image he flashes to everyone else._

Not really satisfied with what I'd written but unable to do any better, I hit send and then crawled into bed. My alarm was off, and if anyone woke me up before noon, I was going to be pissed beyond words.

The next thought I had was that someone obviously had a death threat. I'd heard my phone ringing in the living room but easily ignored it. Now my reminder indicator was beeping to let me know I had an unheard message. My body wanted to roll over and go back to sleep. Unfortunately, once my mind realized someone was not only trying to reach me but also leaving a message, I couldn't shut down my curiosity. I got up and grabbed at my phone, as though handling it roughly would let the caller know of my irritation.

I didn't check the caller ID, hitting the play button for my messages instead.

I relaxed the second I heard the familiar warm voice say, "Babe, how much of the day are you going to waste sleeping? Go check your email. I've got several meetings today that are going to be difficult because I have to let go of some men that I hired myself. When I get online tonight, I'm going to want a response from you." Then he hung up.

He'd been doing so well using his words, and then he'd just hung up. Would it have killed him to add a simple goodbye before hitting the end button on the call?

I was still sleepy, but now that he'd thrown down the gauntlet about a waiting email, I walked over and hit the power button on my laptop. While I was waiting for the login screen to appear, I played his message once more. He was sharing a detail about his day that he didn't have to tell me. Today wasn't going to be hard because he was firing people – if they screwed up, losing their job was probably the least of what he wanted to do to them. It was going to be hard because he hired them, which meant he felt betrayed by whatever they had done in that office to sabotage him. He was blaming himself for misjudging them or missing something before bringing them in and backing them with his name. That was what would make today difficult for him. Why did he share that detail with me?

I thought getting him to open up would make him easier to understand and relate to, but so far, it was just confusing me more and filling me with more questions. I wondered if he would be offended if I asked him to go back to just responding "Babe" to everything and letting me assign my own meaning to the word?

Before I talked myself out of anything, I figured I should at least read the email he'd sent. The first thing I noticed when I opened his message was that it was longer than his other ones had been.

_Let me guess... If I'd let myself into your apartment last night, it would have smelled of greasy pizza, and you would have been balled up on your couch, watching whatever sap was on late night television because you'd eaten all the junk food in your pantry and you didn't feel motivated enough to get up and put in Ghostbusters. I'll bet you were wearing some of those stretchy pants that stop mid way between your knees and ankles and had on a black t-shirt that may or may not have come from my apartment when I wasn't looking._

Shows how much he knew... I was in cotton shorts, not yoga pants, and I was wearing the t-shirt he'd left here when he had to stay in my apartment, hiding out as he tried to clear his name. He'd left two shirts here then, and I'd worn them so much they were beginning to wear thin. There was no way I was going to admit to that, so my brief victory of seeing Ranger guess wrong was shallow at best.

_Why would you think asking me questions is trying to change me? You know me well enough to know that I don't do anything I don't want to do, so if you were pushing me for something I didn't want to give, I'd say no and leave it at that._

I couldn't argue with his logic. I'd heard him say no before, although he rarely said it to me.

_Most of my life is structured around discipline and routine. When I get up, how I work out, and what I eat for breakfast are prescribed from years of practice. But that doesn't mean I'm some kind of idiot that can't break out of the expected mold for the right reason. It's usually easier to continue doing the same thing unless there's a motivation to change. You've never pushed me for more, so I never had a reason to give it. I'm not saying I don't want to answer your questions, but volunteering information is foreign territory, so it may not be smooth at first. If there's something you want from me, all you have to do is ask. You know me better than anyone else. I've shared details of my life with you that no one else knows. I think you already know the difference between the real me and the one I put on display in public._

Did I? I knew he had various personas that he switched out like I changed shoes. I could easily identify gangster Ranger, boardroom Ranger, and total badass Ranger, but I wasn't so sure I could put my finger on who he was when nobody was looking...and that was who I wanted to know. The fact that he knew how I'd spent my evening told me that he knew the real me, but I wasn't so sure I could guess with nearly as much accuracy for him.

_Is trust an emotion or action? Because I trust you in ways that I can't say are true about any other woman. I hope that you know me well enough to know that emotionally speaking, that's a big admission for me._

That settled it. I was definitely an idiot. I should have known better. The few times I've tried to tease Ranger, he's always turned the tables on me and taken control, showing me that no one can out-tease the Cuban sex god. And when I decide to pressure him about his emotions, he opens up in a way that leaves him vulnerable and that demands reciprocation, which means I now have the pressure do the same thing. How was I supposed to respond to that?

I decided that a shower might help me work this out, so I took my time, washed my hair, shaved my legs and then stood there under the guise of steaming the tension out of my shoulders. In truth, I was hiding from my computer so I didn't have the pressure of responding. Once I admitted that, I turned off the now tepid water and got out. Fortunately, between sleeping in and dwelling over Ranger's email, I had wasted a large portion of the day so that it was mid afternoon already. I threw on a robe, figuring I'd get dressed later to go out with Hector so I didn't need to dirty two outfits when only one was necessary.

I ate a pop-tart for a late lunch and smiled at the thought that I could at least tell Ranger I hadn't eaten all my junk food last night because I still had some for my first meal of the day. Of course, that would be admitting what I was eating, so I decided some details were better left unsaid.

I called Mary Lou and checked on Carson. She assured me he was fine, that it might have been scary at the time but that he had already bounced back and was currently at school, telling all his friends about the big guy he'd hung out with the afternoon before. I thanked her, again, and promised to call her for us to get together again soon.

I couldn't come up with anything else that demanded my attention, so I begrudgingly moved back to my laptop and hit reply.

_For the record, I'm in my blue robe, not lounge pants, so there's no reason to use your crystal ball to try to figure out what I'm doing right now. Other than my wardrobe and the amount of food left in my pantry, you had the rest of my evening down pretty well...which makes me wonder why you ever break into my apartment. You'd never waste an evening vegging out watching crappy television and sucking down unhealthy food._

I didn't like the tone I was starting to set, so I quickly changed the subject, hoping he'd keep up.

_I had to really think about what you wrote. I think trust is an action that comes from several emotions. I know this because I trust you – more than anyone else. I've called you when I was happy and wanted to celebrate, when I was confused and needed advice, when I was horny and needed release, and when I was in danger and needed help. Never, in any of those times, did I doubt that you would give me what I needed. I reach out to you because I trust that you'll be there when I need you. It's an action, but it's not blindly performed. I trust you because I admire you, I like you, I feel secure when I'm with you and more confident from being around you. So the trust comes from all the other things._

I sat there for three minutes with my finger hovering over the backspace key, but in the end, I lowered my hand without deleting what I'd written. Despite how needy it made me sound, I couldn't disagree with anything I'd written. It was all true, and if I was pushing him to open up to me, I owed him the same thing in return.

_We all have routines or habits, and mine are so well ingrained, breaking out of them would take more than just a proper motivation. It would take repeated practice and someone patient enough to work with me over time. I run – stop smirking; I didn't mean literally. When things get intense, I shut down, and if my attempt at hiding doesn't work, I run away. It was what Joe said finally ended our relationship. He would push for me to open up to him, and I'd take off in the opposite direction. But when I looked at why I ran instead of giving in, which would have been so much easier, I had to admit that it was because the thing he wanted from me – for me to love him the same way he said he loved me – wasn't something I could give him. It wasn't that Joe was a bad guy; it was just that I finally realized no amount of pressure or logical arguments could make my heart give itself to him and only a fool would keep trying to force it. So, I gave up and told him the truth – that while I'd always love him, I couldn't force myself to be in love with him, and we had to stop the merry go round we'd been on for years. It wasn't fun anymore, and the thought of another fight and reconciliation cycle was making me nauseous._

How did I get off track and onto Joe? I had a feeling the last thing Ranger wanted to know about was my past with Morelli. Still, it was all true, and if Ranger was trying to say he wanted to open up to me, then he'd have to get used to hearing about my life, as well.

_I'm sorry about your day today. I know you don't mind firing somebody if they screwed up, but I'm guessing the hard part will be because you thought you could trust them. Seeing as how you've had your trust in someone crushed so recently, I see the gift you are giving me in saying you still trust me. I'm usually bad about accepting presents, but this is one gift I'll definitely treasure._

I figured I'd probably written enough to push his attention span since his conversations weren't usually this long. But I didn't want to leave the note on such a sappy topic. I proofed what I'd written and then quickly added a closing sentence.

_So what does the man of mystery do when no one is looking after a hard day? I'm guessing Pino's and bad television are out, so what's left to help you deal with the stress of a day like this one?_

Before I could analyze every word any further, I hit send and then decided to start the process of getting dressed for tonight. It wasn't like I needed to impress a gay man with my outfit, but part of my plan included having Hector scare off any other guys that might approach without making a scene. So I needed to try to make myself look good enough that somebody would risk crossing Hector to talk to me. I was starting to wish I'd gotten up earlier now that the full brunt of what I had to accomplish tonight was on me.

It took four different outfit shifts and three hairstyles to finally settle on what I was going to wear to the club. The dress I had on at the moment was a deep blue and one that Ranger had once threatened to burn after a distraction because he said it had not only gotten the skip's attention but that of every other man in the bar, so I hoped it would bring the same kind of good luck tonight.

Hector was leaning against the door to the garage when I pulled up. I was three minutes early, so I refused to apologize for making him wait. As he moved toward the car, I couldn't help but appreciate the outfit he had on. Instead of the baggy clothes that usually hung on him, he was in a pair of fitted black jeans and a red silk shirt, that brought out the honey of his skin in a nice way. Admittedly, it was dark, but seeing him dressed like that kept me from focusing on the tears permanently marking his face.

He hopped in on the passenger side and smiled at me. "_Hola_, chica."

"_Hola_, Hector," I replied, already using up all my Spanish knowledge unless we were planning on going out to eat.

I began driving through Trenton to get us to Escapades, the club I'd picked for the night. It wasn't one of the places I'd usually go to for a girl's night out, since it was typically crowded with a more aggressive meat market mentality, but for our purpose tonight, I figured it would work perfectly.

The silence was starting to make me uncomfortable, until I parked the car at the back of the lot and turned to face my partner for the evening. I had no choice but to explain what I planned for us, but I wasn't sure if he'd understand it or be able to participate because of my lack of clear directions.

"How much English do you understand?" I asked, wishing he'd reply with perfect diction that his insistence of speaking only Spanish was only an act.

He lifted his thumb and forefinger close together and said, "A little."

That wasn't the answer I was hoping for. "We're going into the club, and we're going to pretend to be a couple." I watched his face very closely for any sign he understood or objected to what I was suggesting.

"Some guys might approach us to dance with me, and tonight, the answer to that will be no. I want to get rid of them without making a scene or scaring them so much they alert a bouncer to a possible threat." I wished there was a way for me to know if the message was getting through – especially about the last part, because it was the most important.

"This is a chance for you to practice a cover that's different from the ones you usually play for RangeMan," I tried to explain what I was thinking, but I couldn't tell if it really mattered to him one way or the other.

"Do you have any questions?" I asked, wishing there was a way to gauge if this was about to be a gigantic failure.

"_Si_," he said, not encouraging me with his Spanish response. Then in a heavily accented voice, he asked, "What if the man wants to dance with me?"

I laughed, out of a mixture of relief that he'd asked his question in English and that he was attempting to make a joke because of his sexual orientation. "That depends on how cute he is," I replied with a grin. "Before I agree to blow my cover, I want to be sure it would be worth it."

"_Bien_," he answered, which I thought meant good. The fact that he was still smiling told me it didn't really matter if I was right or not because we were both enjoying ourselves.

I didn't want to push my luck by saying anything else, so I nodded toward the club and then opened my door. He followed suit and met me at the front of the car to walk with me to the door. I could feel his hand on my back just below my waist. With my heels on, we were basically the same height and his presence behind me felt comfortable. There was no control or pressure coming from his hand, and he didn't seem to be tense or stiff like I'd worried that he would be.

When we entered the club and pushed past the bar, the song playing was one I liked, so I leaned back and said, "Dance?"

He nodded and replied, "Si, _bailar_."

We moved to the dance floor, so I assumed he'd agreed to dance with me. When he spun me around suddenly and pulled my hips tight to his own, wrapping one arm around my waist and letting the other linger on my back, I found myself wondering if I'd ever danced with someone who had moves like Hector's before. Obviously, I'd begun the night with too many misconceptions about the man in front of me, because not only did he have a great body, but he definitely knew how to use it, too. Without worries about attraction or chemistry, I was able to relax and let him lead, not worrying about him misinterpreting how I moved. It was probably the most freeing feeling I'd had in a club in a long time.

We danced for three songs in a row, and then he motioned to a table that had emptied on the edge of the floor, so I assumed that meant he wanted to take a break.

We had barely sat down when a guy that looked like he was recently out of the frat boy stage began making his way over. He locked his eyes on me, never giving Hector a second glance. "Would you like to dance?"

I turned to look at Hector, trying to send the message that this was part of the experience for him tonight and I wanted him to deal with it. His ESP must be bilingual, because he nodded and then looked at the blond boy in front of us and said something in Spanish. It wasn't overly harsh, but it didn't sound like an invitation to sit down, either.

"Does he always answer for you?" the kid pushed once more.

"Tonight I do," Hector responded, understanding enough to get the answer right to that question.

"Pity," the guy said as a final response before turning and walking away.

He wasn't bad looking, so I paused to appreciate the way his tight jeans framed his ass before looking at Hector, who seemed to be appreciating the view a little more than I had. When we looked at each other, we both started laughing.

"I not like him for you," Hector said after we pulled ourselves together.

"Why not?" I couldn't understand why it mattered who I danced with.

"He's too…" Hector paused, so I waited, figuring he was trying to get his thoughts together and translate them into English. Finally, he changed tactics and said, "He's not the boss."

"You think I need someone who can boss me around?" I wasn't sure what kind of lifestyle Hector was into, but if he thought I was a submissive in need of a strong hand to master me in the bedroom, he had totally misjudged me.

"No," Hector answered quickly, proving his sincerity. "He's not Ranger; he's not the boss."

"Oh, you think I'm with Ranger," I restated what I thought he meant.

"You should be," Hector pushed, frustrating me by leaving it there.

"Why?" I couldn't believe of all the guys at RangeMan, Hector was the one suddenly interested in my love life.

He lifted a finger and moved it from side to side, as though saying he wasn't going to do what I was asking for. "No tell secrets, but it would be good for him and you. You'll see."

"Will I?" I asked, unable to stop myself. It's not that I thought the quiet man in front of me had a crystal ball, but my love life had felt beyond my control for so long that I was desperate for any kind of prediction that I could hold onto or hope for.

Hector smiled again and said, "We dance now, talk about the boss later."

I let him take my hand and lead me back out to the dance floor. "How much later?" I pushed once he'd pressed us together once more.

"That talk needs tequila," he explained, much to my disappointment. "And Ranger."

"I can't picture those two things together," I blurted out, trying to remember if I'd ever seen Ranger drink something stronger than a beer. I'd seen him order various hard liquors to play a part, but he usually dumped them out when no one was looking, so I didn't think he drank much.

Hector laughed at my honesty and said, "Not much, but when he drinks shots, the little worm makes him talk. He'll tell you anything."

I was so lost in what he'd just said, I didn't know where to start firing questions back. Was he saying that tequila made Ranger talk about anything, and at some point, he'd confessed how he felt about me to Hector? If I got Ranger to my apartment and plied him with booze, could I get the whole truth about some of his cryptic remarks?

My mind was a swirl of possibilities so that I nearly fell over when Hector stopped moving and turned away a would-be dance partner. This time, I didn't watch the departure of my latest rejection until I felt Hector turn to face me.

"Not bad," I replied, referring to the leather-clad ass.

"The cop was better," Hector confessed, comparing this guy to Joe's famed rear end.

"True, but it takes more than a hot ass to be happy," I replied, wanting to be sure Hector understood that Joe and I were completely through.

"Maybe," he agreed, before adding, "But I'd settle for a hot ass right now."

The next hour was spent dancing with the man who had completely thrown me for a loop tonight. Every preconceived notion I'd had about him had been blown out the water. There were a few things that I thought were lost in translation, but for the most part, we were able to communicate just fine. And even when the last guy who'd tried to cut in got a little loud because he was obviously drunk, I thought Hector had handled it well. Of course, I had no way of knowing what he'd said when he'd pushed me behind him and gotten right up in the guy's face, but the wet puddle on the floor made it obvious he'd made a strong enough point that we didn't have to worry about him returning for another chance.

After that, I was exhausted and figured there was nothing else for us to do, so I drove Hector back to Haywood. He hesitated before he opened the door, and I had a feeling I knew what was about to be said. "I had fun," he began, giving me a chance to agree with him. "When you're done, we do it again, but I pick the place. _Si_?"

Oddly, I didn't have any reservations agreeing. "_Si_, you can pick the club next time."

After I'd agreed to go dancing with him again, he got out, and I drove myself back home.

Before I forgot some of the details, I took off my clothes, put on the t-shirt I'd slept in the night before, and then sat down to type up the report. Hector had used several tactics depending on the response he got from each of the guys, but he'd never had to resort to anything physical. I was curious what he'd said to the last guy but figured the end result was all he was going to be judged on, so it didn't matter.

I sent it off to Tank and copied Ranger before allowing myself to look at my inbox. I cleared out all the junk, leaving just two messages from Ranger. One had come in probably a half hour after I'd sent my message this afternoon, and the second one was received only thirty minutes ago.

The first one was probably a gut reaction reply, so I was really curious what I'd written that had made him have to respond so quickly. I opened it and smiled when I read his response.

"_A__ robe – your blue robe? That's all you're wearing? The one time all I'd have to do is just tug on a cotton belt to see everything underneath and I'm too far away to take advantage of it. At least you've given me an image to hold onto through my meetings. I'll write more later. ~R_"

Hector's words came back into my mind, and I smiled. He was right; I wouldn't have enjoyed those guys from the club because they weren't Ranger. It was time for me to admit that he was what I wanted. Now all I had to do was get him to admit to feeling the same way, and all would be well.

If I couldn't do it via email, when he got back into town, I'd find a way to invite him over for a movie – and tequila.


	7. Checking Out Hal

_JE created the characters below that I'm having such a wonderful time with._

_Jenny (JenRar) you are an amazing beta. I consider myself lucky to be able to work with you._

**Chapter 7 – Checking Out Hal**

I had a little time before I had to pick up Hal, so I decided to respond to Ranger's emails from last night. The first one he'd merely asked about my comment that I was only wearing a robe. I decided to taunt him a little and said only, _"Which would be more likely to get information from you: me in a robe, or me with a fresh bottle of __tequila? I__ hear from __Hector that the__ little worm makes you talk. Do you want to tell me what that's all about?"_

His second email was a lot longer and gave me the details of his day. He shared who he'd fired and why it had been so hard to do. Apparently, Manuel had been a friend growing up. He was two years older than Ranger and even briefly dated one of his sisters. Manuel had gone into the Marines and proven himself to be a tough man, capable of handling himself in any situation. When Ranger had needed somebody to head up his New York office, there'd been no decision; the job could only go to one man. At first, Manuel had excelled as the boss. He'd brought in new clients, he'd run a tight ship according to RangeMan standards, and he'd seemed to be enjoying the dual challenge of being a bad ass and a boss. So, Ranger had backed off and given him free reign to run the office.

That was apparently his first mistake. His second mistake was thinking that because his sister dated the guy, that meant he was straight. It had only taken Ranger thirty minutes in the New York office to figure out that the job that began my training had been intentionally botched because of an order from Manuel. He'd told the men that they were to do the job, keep everyone safe, and to do it by being as tough and big and fierce as possible. A couple of the regular staff had objected, daring to stand up to their leader to say that a softer approach made more sense, They'd been relieved of their duties and appropriate contract staff had been called in.

Ranger confessed that even though he knew exactly what had happened, he still couldn't put his finger on exactly why it happened. Manuel seemed to be enamored with Ranger, but Ranger couldn't figure out if he wanted Ranger's _life_ for his own or if he wanted _Ranger_ for his own. In the end, he stopped trying to get answers and had Manuel escorted from the building and straight to the local VA. The answers he was getting were too contradictory to make sense, proving that PTSD was more than just psychological bullshit. When reality and the world we wish existed couldn't be distinguished, then it was time to call in the professionals. He'd forced Manuel to get help, taken away his security clearance and his passcodes to the buildings and accounts, but he couldn't make himself pull his employee record. Until he was better, Manuel would stay on the books, still pulling a paycheck and still covered by the best health insurance RangeMan's money could buy.

_You are a good, decent, honorable man, Ricardo Carlos Manoso. You are doing everything possible to help your friend and to protect the men who work for you. Please don't second guess yourself because of what Manuel decided to do. Obviously, he hasn't been able to handle everything he's seen or done and he's lost his ability to make good choices. And despite what the word on the street might say, I know you, and I know you have a caring side that might be well hidden, but it runs deep, too. I'm proud of how you are handling all of this, and I'm proud of the man I get to call my friend._

I figured that was probably all the gushing Ranger could handle all at once, so I signed off and hit send before I could second guess my own words.

My plan for Hal was inspired because it allowed me to get him some experience that would qualify as training, and if the day worked as I'd planned, then I'd also get one of the skips Connie gave me the last time I was in the bonds office.

Harold Manowitz was a fifty-year-old con artist that seemed to enjoy hanging out in the public library. He'd stalk victims in the home improvement section and wait until they checked out books to learn about various projects they were going to attempt themselves. Then he'd find a reason to bump into them and offer his assistance as an expert claiming that all you needed was a little friendly help and you could complete any project. After talking with the sucker of the day for a while, he'd manage to build up enough trust and then get an invitation to their house to help them work on the improvement covered in their books. Just like a vampire, once he was invited in, he came over and sucked them dry, scoping out their home and breaking in within a few days.

It was a lengthy scheme to break into a house, but it seemed he got off on manipulating people, so not only was he a thief, but he was a nut job, too. He never stole weapons, and his total haul from any one house never hit the limit of setting bail high enough to warrant RangeMan being called to bring him back into the system, so he was in my pile and turning out to be much harder to catch than I wanted. He seemed to only follow men that needed a confidence boost, so nothing I had tried had gotten his attention.

Today, I decided to use Hal as a decoy and have him play an unsuspecting guy in need of some help building a deck. Hopefully, Manowitz would take the bait, and once he approached Hal outside, we could bring him down quickly and quietly without disrupting the quiet of the library.

My friend Stella was a librarian there, and she'd begged me to do anything possible to keep this take down out of the news. The library already had enough trouble keeping its doors open because of the ereading craze. If they got bad press implying that it wasn't safe to hang out there, she was afraid they wouldn't be able to bring anyone in to peruse the treasures waiting to be read.

I pulled on my usual work clothes of a pair of jeans and reasonably clean, if not slightly wrinkled shirt, and then laced up my Doc Martins. I knew I was going to be spending time in the library, so my first inclination was that no one would see me, meaning a ponytail would be more than enough effort. Then I remembered I'd promised Stella that she didn't need to worry about any bad press because of my plan. That had me heading back to the bathroom to pull out all my tools for a beauty treatment. The gods of fate had probably heard me make that promise, which meant they'd be out to screw with me for assuring someone of something that was well beyond my control. I needed to be ready for an explosion of epic proportions. So I fixed my hair as best as it would allow and then decided to skip the second coat of hair spray just in case the explosion was literal instead of figurative. That stuff was majorly flammable, and I didn't see any reason to paint a bull's-eye on my head bigger than it usually was.

Hal was waiting for me downstairs when I pulled in. I was a couple of minutes late but still within the five minute window that I operated within, so I didn't bother apologizing.

I handed him the file on Manowitz so he could get caught up while I was driving across town. He shut it as I pulled into the last space in the front row. It wasn't exactly by the door, but it was much better than my usual parking karma allowed, so I decided to take it as an indication that things were going to go well today.

It was hard to keep from smiling as Hal literally paled when I explained my plan for catching Manowitz. "Why can't you be the plant and then I take him down when he walks out of the library?" he suggested.

"Because this was supposed to be about you getting to experience something new, and what you're suggesting is just a simple distraction, except it would happen somewhere other than a nightclub," I explained, hoping he'd buy the answer. In truth, I hadn't considered myself being the bait. If I had, I probably would have gone about it the way he'd suggested.

"But I already know how to do home improvement projects," Hal pointed out. "My father was a contractor, and I've been on more construction sites than I have Army missions."

"Then you'll know just what to say to make it sound like it's something you could do, if you just have a little help getting started," I argued, unwilling to change my plans because Hal was suffering from stage fright.

"But—" he began, as though he were going to argue once more.

I had to cut this off or we'd miss the window of opportunity when Manowitz usually came in looking for victims. "But nothing. This is the plan I came up with for you. Are you really going to be the first guy to refuse to go through the exercise I came up with at Ranger's command?"

"No, I'm not backing out, I just wanted to be sure you knew that I'm not the best actor and I might screw this up," he confessed, looking terribly embarrassed by that admission.

"I doubt you will screw anything up, but even if it all goes to hell, whatever happens here will show up in a report to Ranger and Tank, but I won't tell anyone else," I assured him, glad to see him relax a little.

We got out together and began walking toward the front door. "Besides, I promised my friend Stella, the one who works here, that nothing would happen today to bring any bad press to the library."

He smiled slightly when I said that. The boyish good looks that transformed his face then distracted me enough that I was prepared for him to respond, "Then it's a good thing I'm doing this or you might have made a promise that wouldn't be physically possible to keep."

He'd just made a joke at my expense. The Jersey girl in me demanded that I go force him to apologize for the insult, but the co-worker in me recognized, this was how the guys treated each other, and if he was joking with me, then it was a subtle way of welcoming me to the club. I would have preferred a handshake or a well worded card, but I'd take what I could get and be happy.

I helped Hal find the right spot and then told him that we'd wait for a couple of hours for Manowitz to show or not. In the meantime, he could feel free to look around while I floated about and visited with Stella.

Once I was sure Hal wasn't going to bolt for the door, I went to the front desk and sat beside my friend. We chatted for a while, greeting everyone that came in. She even let me help a few people that brought books to the counter to check out. It wasn't something I could do for a living, but for a cover to pick up a skip, it sure beat a standard stake out, or sitting in garbage.

We'd been there an hour when the front door opened and I saw Manowitz come strolling in. Stella welcomed him to the library and asked if he needed help finding anything. He glanced around, eyes falling on the home improvement area in the non-fiction section, and then he shook his head no, walking off with a barely-suppressed grin. I realized he was probably looking at Hal and deciding if the guy was that big and looking at books to do something around the house, he would make an easy target.

Three minutes later, Hal came over to the main desk, which confused me. Then he leaned on the counter and spoke in a full voice instead of the whispered volume most people used here. "I need something about building a deck and wondered if there was anything here other than these two books."

Stella typed away for a moment, scanning a list of books that appeared on her screen before asking if I thought I could man the desk for a moment while she helped this customer. I winked at Hal and assured her I could hold down the fort.

I listened to Stella walk Hal back over to the stacks where the books were located and then talk to him about the project he had planned before pointing out another shelf of books that might be helpful. As she walked away, I realized she had the perfect job for her temperament. She was able to help people, and she was surrounded by books, which, even as a young girl, she had loved. I wondered how it felt to do something you felt completely suited you. I had that to a degree, but she also had social acceptance of her choice, and I figured I'd never live to see that.

Before I got too far down the pity party road, I noticed Hal coming back to the circulation desk with Manowitz right behind him. They checked out, and before Hal got to the door, the skip stopped him to talk about his project. Sharing only a few details, Hal led Manowitz out the door, so I had to pull myself from behind the desk and follow to be sure nothing went wrong on the take down.

Why I thought my presence was necessary, I don't know. By the time I was out the front door, Hal had the skip in cuffs and was leading him to my CRV. I caught up with them and wondered if I could find a way to work a training exercise into all my captures for a while. It was nice to get the bad guy and stay clean at the same time. I forced myself to shake off that thought. As nice as it was, it would be abusing Ranger's generosity, and that was something I would never intentionally do.

After dropping off Manowitz at the station, Hal spoke up and said, "I think we need to go back to the library."

"Why?" I was at a loss about what we needed to do there.

"The woman that you were talking to put a note in my books," he confessed, sounding a little embarrassed about it.

"What did it say?" I didn't want to push, but I needed to know if Stella was just hitting on my friend, which I was totally okay with, or if she had a real question and because of what we were doing, it hadn't been asked. I wasn't sure what kind of pressing library needs there were, but I didn't want to assume incorrectly.

"Just that I needed to come back as soon as possible," he replied, turning the paper over, as though the back might contain another clue.

The next street allowed me to loop around the block and return us back to the beginning location of our day together.

"Do you need backup?" I asked, wondering if I needed to go in with him or if this had something to do with him personally.

"I don't know," he replied honestly, still looking confused about the note in his hand. "Maybe you should come in."

Hal let me take the lead in moving back to the quiet building where we'd spent our time together so far. There weren't any more patrons in there than there had been earlier, so we didn't have to wait to get Stella's attention.

As soon as she saw us moving toward her, she began to blush. Then I remembered how shy she had been in school. When she talked about books, she would get animated and impassioned, but as soon as we switched to sports or the upcoming dance, she would clamp down and turn into a wall flower again. Having spent the morning with her today, I'd forgotten the more awkward side of her personality.

Then I remembered that Stella was still single, and I knew that Hal was, as well. They shared a lot of things, but they were both very quiet until they got to know you, so I wondered if I would get in trouble for what I was about to do.

I walked up to the front desk with Hal and then said, "I just remembered I wanted to look up some books while I was here, so I'll leave you two to catch up." Then I walked away as quickly as possible without running. The rule of no running in the library had been practically beaten into us as children, and as much as I wanted those two to have a moment alone, I wasn't able to break out of that training.

I turned down the first aisle and stopped, wanting to give them a moment of privacy but only enough that they felt alone enough to talk. I wasn't willing to move far enough away that I couldn't hear them talking.

Hal pushed the paper he'd been holding forward and said, "I got your note."

Stella looked at it as though she needed to confirm what he was referring to. She was quiet long enough that I worried she was going to blow this before anything happened.

Finally, Hal jumped in and said, "My card was old, and I hadn't used it in a long time. Was there a problem with it?"

Stella looked up and smiled at him, obviously grateful for the opening to talk. "It's out of date," she replied quietly before clearing her throat and speaking once again. "I need to give you a new bar code and get your record updated in the computer."

Hal pulled his library card out of his wallet and handed it to her with a shy smile. "What can I give you?"

"Your phone number," she quickly replied, and then looked down and stumbled over her words. "I mean, I need a number to contact you if you have any overdue books on your account."

The smile on Hal's face got slightly bigger, and he pulled out a business card from RangeMan. Even from the distance I was standing, I'd recognize the black cards anywhere. "Here's all my information. You can update my account, and then feel free to hang onto it, should you need to reach me for…any reason."

Wow, for a guy that played the "awe shucks" routine so well, he was beginning to get a little bit of a Lester swagger.

Stella bent down and pulled up a piece of yellow paper that matched a flyer hanging on the wall near where I was hiding. I glanced at the paper in front of me and saw it was an announcement about the library's annual fundraiser ball at the end of the month. It was a costume party where people were encouraged to dress as characters from books they'd read. The tickets went to support the library, so it was a good cause.

She pushed the paper toward Hal and then grabbed a pen to write something on it. "I'll keep your card, but here's my number in case there's anything you need to reach me for."

When she said the word anything, she circled the date on the fundraiser flyer.

"Will this number ring here?" he asked, subtly trying to find out what she was suggesting.

"No, it's my personal cell phone number," she corrected him.

A beautiful red tint covered Hal's face at that piece of information. They each said a few more things, but their embarrassment was beginning to make it awkward. I guess the initial attraction had given them a little courage to step outside their comfort zone, and now that was fading.

Knowing they needed to end this before it got too far off track, I came back around the corner and announced we needed to go, inventing some work-related call we needed to answer. Stella thanked us for handling this morning so smoothly and then turned to flee to the back office.

When we got back to my car, Hal asked what call had come in.

"I was bailing you out before you said or did something you'd regret." I confessed.

"I wasn't…" he began to disagree, but then thought better of it and closed his mouth for a moment. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it," I replied before feeling slightly evil for the next thought that popped into my head. "But the second half of your training with me is to call Stella tonight and ask her out on a date before the library fundraiser."

"What?" Clearly, he wasn't expecting that.

"All the other guys have had to perform two tasks with me, so you are no different," I pointed out.

"But you haven't been fixing them up with women," he attempted to argue.

"No, but I think this would be good because it would force you to act outside of your usual comfort zone, and if you two were forced into a conversation, I think you'd relax and enjoy it. Then if your date goes well, you could ask her to accompany you to the library fundraiser," I pointed out.

As we made our way to Haywood, Hal continued to try talking me out of the task I'd given him.

I stopped in front of the office and said, "I have to file my report tonight about our day out. You need to call her and then let me know what happened in time for me to include that in my write up so that I don't have to admit that I gave you an assignment that you chickened out of completing." I knew I was pushing him, but the guys hated being insulted with the chicken comparison, so I had a feeling he'd cave.

"You have a mean streak," Hal said, surrendering at my words.

"This isn't news," I reminded him. "Remember the first day we met? I took you down with your own stun gun. Why would you think I'd settled into a sweet person since then?"

He laughed at the reference to one of my less professional moments, but he didn't back down. "I guess you're right. I should have known you'd continue trying to kill me."

"It was set to stun, not fry," I pointed out, laughing. "Call her," I reminded him when he opened the door to get out.

He moved to leave but then turned back at the last minute and said, "If she says yes, can I talk to you later about what to do on the date?"

"Sure," I promised. "I'll be glad to help you plan a night out." It was great getting to know the guys and work closer with them, but I'd had no idea how long-term this assignment was going to be when I accepted it. Still, it was nice to be wanted and to feel like I was helping them out in some way.

Back at my apartment, I typed up my report, wondering if I'd challenged Hal enough. He never seemed comfortable, but that might have helped the skip to target him, so it was possible it worked in his favor. Still, he was forced to adapt and practice working in a situation that made him take the lead, which he rarely did. Even though I didn't really have much to suggest he do differently the next time, I still felt like the day had been well spent. Especially if he and Stella hit it off as well as I suspected they would.

Once I got my work out of the way, I decided to hold off sending the report until Hal had a chance to pick up the phone and take a risk, calling the friendly librarian. I didn't really plan on including it if he scored a date, but if he ended up backing out and not calling, I wouldn't hesitate to add a little pressure in the form of a threat to tell Ranger he'd failed to complete his assignment.

After I thought of Ranger, I couldn't hold back from checking my email. I was thrilled to see a note from him. I wondered if I'd made a mistake in trying to tease Ranger the second I read his opening line.

"_Babe, if you really want to know the answer to that question, why don't you try inviting me over and then answering the door wearing that robe, loosely tied, while holding a bottle of tequila? I can't promise which one would end up winning out, but I can guarantee you'd get any answer you wanted. There's not enough training in the world to prepare a person to withstand that kind of torture."_

I nearly doubled over laughing at that image. I knew he'd survived all kinds of real torture. It had come up one night on a surveillance shift, and he'd said that water boarding was a horrible thing, but there were worse ways to be worked over. I hadn't pushed the issue, sensing that he didn't want to talk about it. But even in the dark of the Porsche, I could see the look on his face, which told me his knowledge was all gained firsthand. My laughter now was not that he'd been through so many unthinkable things but that he seemed to think I could make him talk when other horrible men had failed in the past. Maybe he was right that I held all the power between us.

_I don't agree with how you painted me in your last email. But knowing that you were being sincere when you said it makes me wish I could live up to it. I would hate to disappoint you, even though I know no one could be all those things all the time. Knowing that I have someone in my corner that's there because they believe in me, the man, instead of following my orders as the boss, is a rare comfort. Thanks for standing behind me, Babe._

It was a good thing this correspondence was written instead of in person, because hearing somebody like Ranger admit something like that out loud would have reduced me down to a blubbering idiot. As much as I hated getting all emotional, hearing Ranger thank me for being in his corner made me feel warm and had me cursing Manuel for screwing up the New York office so that Ranger had to be so far away.

_As for what I do after a stressful day, I think you have built me up as a superhero for far too long. I'm just a man who enjoys a cold beer and good movie as much as the next guy. I might not veg out as often as you do, but that doesn't mean I don't do it. I think I might enjoy it more if I weren't alone. I don't even like Ghostbusters, but every time you've seen it while I was at your apartment, I've found myself enjoying the movie because I was watching it with you. It might also surprise you to learn that I love dancing. If I had the right partner, I might do it more often. Know anybody that's good in a pair of impossibly high heels while spinning around on a dance floor?_

Damn, if I thought tender and emotional Ranger was doing strange things to me, intentionally flirty Ranger was going to make me break a perfectly good shower head soon. After wishing me a good night and telling me to sleep well, he'd signed off with his typical letter ~R. I wondered if there was a way to transfer his good email manners to his horrible phone etiquette.

I responded back with a rambling email telling him about the chemistry between Hal and Stella from today and letting him know I made the call to her for a date part of training, not because it served a purpose but because I thought the extra leverage was going to be required to help him find the courage to call. Sure, he could charge into a gun battle with the possibility of death, but calling a girl he'd just met required a different kind of strength, and Hal was struggling to find it.

Since I was already wandering everywhere with my writing tonight, I gave him my impression of his thought that I'd been too generous in my assessment of how he was handling the New York situation. Just because he tried to hide it didn't meant he wasn't still a great man at heart. And I was completely okay with being one of the few people in the world who recognized it.

By the time I finished typing, I was getting tired, so I decided to close my note before I admitted to something I couldn't take back. But before I said goodnight, I tried challenging him again and wrote, "Why don't you try finishing this sentence? 'When I read Stephanie's note about how she is convinced I am a good man, I feel _ ?' I know you can do it. Don't censure or try to think it through; just respond and hit send."

With that challenge issued, I rushed through my evening routine and then gave my remote a work out trying to find something worthwhile to watch. After an hour of moving through all the available channels without finding anything that could hold my interest, I figured that was a hint that I should call it a night.

Before heading to bed, I pulled my email and saw Ranger had already responded.

_You know if you push me enough, I'm going to start pushing back, right?_

That opening sentence made me sit down hard in the chair behind me. I might have finally pulled the tiger's tail enough for him to turn around and snap at me.

_When I read your note about what you think of me, I felt twice as tall and totally unworthy. But I believe you wouldn't lie to me, so I won't try to talk you out of it. And since I was honest with you, I hope you'll return the favor and finish this sentence for me and send it back with your gut reaction, not a thought out response._

I swallowed, attempting to clear my throat, as though I knew whatever came next was going to be difficult.

_If I had a bottle of tequila at my disposal, I would try to get Ranger to confess _?_

My initial reaction was relief that he wasn't asking me to talk about my feelings, but as I re-read the question, I realized this was even trickier than my question to him had been.

I took a few breaths and tried to see what answer popped into my mind first. If I had a way to force Ranger to lower his defenses, then I'd want him naked and pledging to do my will all night long. While honest, I didn't think that would be the kind of answer he was going for, so I waited for my next answer to bobble up.

As soon as it popped in my mind, I began typing, determined to give him the same level of full-disclosure he'd given to me.

_I would try to get you to confess why you don't want me. I get that your life is difficult and it would make having a traditional relationship hard. But I've never understood why you don't want to admit that what we have, even as strange as people might find it, is still a relationship of sorts. I've always wondered why it seems you can accept my accident-prone nature, my inability to hold onto a car for a full year, my insistence on doing a dangerous job, and my crazy family, but there is something apparently worse than all of those things that forces you to keep me just at the edge of your life. It would be nice to know the truth of what it was._

I hadn't meant for my response to take such a solemn turn, but as I typed it, I knew it was true. The bigger question was why he kept me around at all. But if he was going to allow me in his life, then it was a bit confusing about why he put up with all the problems that seemed to follow me around only to keep me at a certain distance. If he wasn't willing to eliminate me from his life, then there had to be something about me that kept him from letting me all the way in. Even though I probably couldn't do anything about it, I'd certainly like to know what it was.


	8. Presents for Vince

_JE gets the credit (and royalties) for creating the characters below._

_Jenny (JenRar) I don't have the words to thank you sufficiently for all you do as the beta on this story. _

**Chapter 8 – Presents for Vince**

The next morning, I woke up earlier than usual, but since I couldn't force myself to go back to sleep, I got up and took my time getting ready for the day and drinking what had to have been the best tasting cup of coffee I'd ever made. Finally, having wasted as much time as I thought I could, I got up and walked to my laptop with about as much enthusiasm as a person going to their own execution would have had.

Figuring if I'd come this far, there was no turning back, so I opened my email first to see if I'd gotten a response from my note to Ranger. My luck couldn't have had the message I'd sent being returned to me unread. Instead, I had a note from him waiting.

_I've been all over the world and have been forced to miss every major holiday at some point, the wedding of my brother, my grandfather's funeral, and the birth of my daughter, but I've never resented being away from home as much as I do right now. There are some things that don't translate into the typed word, and this is one of those things._

I stopped reading at that point and looked up at the ceiling, willing the moisture in my eyes to go away. If he was about to tell me that after reading my note, he couldn't figure out why he put up with me either, I wanted to be clear eyed to catch every word the first time because I wasn't sure if it was something I could read more than once.

_You asked me to tell you what made me keep you on the edge of my life, and the answer to that is simple – guilt. Over the years we've know each other, I might have included a few other things like my government contract, the danger my enemies would bring to your life, the lack of a steady schedule that would pull me from you with little to no notice, and the fact that my life had been so dark at different times that I felt like it would be a sin to dirty your life with my filth._

I hadn't seen any of that answer coming. I was still fighting tears, but they were no longer born out of a fear that he was going to tell me to return my fob to the RangeMan building and leave him alone.

_The longer I knew you, the weaker my excuses became. You proved yourself capable of attracting your own form of danger, so mine really wasn't that much more than you were already dealing with. You never made me feel guilty for having to leave with little notice and always took the time to remind me to be careful – even when I woke you during the night trying to get just one last glimpse of you. You never pushed for details when my work with the government prevented me from being able to share what I was doing. And even when I felt forever sullied by the things I'd done, you never shied away from me. You always forced yourself right back into my life, and instead of resenting it, I craved it. So, that left me with just not wanting to claim you as my own because I knew that I'd never let you go if that happened, and I've always believed you could do so much better than what I could offer you._

I didn't know if I should go ahead and cry after reading words from Ranger that made it sound like he wanted more than what we shared or if I should stop reading and blast him for daring to assume what was best for me and not leaving that decision to me.

_When you pushed me to open up to you via email, I figured I had nothing to lose. But one note at a time, you've proven me wrong. I have everything to lose. You became an infatuation within forty-eight hours of meeting you at the diner as a favor to Connie. You became an unhealthy obsession after rescuing you from your shower rod when Morelli handcuffed you naked. You became the one thing I could be proud of after watching you bring in Morelli and feeling like I'd played at least a small part in giving you the tools to do the job. Then week after week, month after month, you became a part of my life. First as an acquaintance, then as a friend, and now – hell, I don't have words for what you are now._

Well, that made two of us, so I hoped he didn't believe I'd have some kind of inspiration to help him out.

_And now I find myself in the unfamiliar territory of wanting to say so many things to you but being out of town and stuck here for a few more days so that it isn't possible. Since there is nothing I can do about my geography at the moment, perhaps you would answer a question for me. After DeChooch, why didn't you turn me away and tell me that if I left your bed, I could never come back to it? Why didn't you give up on me years ago?_

Reading his email was like a dream. I felt like I was getting so much of what I'd always wanted, but at the same time, he wasn't coming right out and saying anything specific, so I couldn't be sure if what I thought was happening was real. I decided to just go with it. I hit Reply and began typing.

_I think we are more alike than either of us realized. We've both spent time greedily wanting whatever the other would give us while not thinking it would last because we weren't exactly worthy._

Hopefully he'd get that I meant I could fully understand what he was saying because I'd felt the same way.

_I didn't give up on you because I always knew you were a wonderful man who deserved to have someone fighting for you just as hard as you fought for others. I didn't tell you to never come back to my bed because after that first night together, every other encounter I had was compared to you and honestly came up short. I didn't think I had what it took to hold your interest forever, but I wanted as much of you as you'd give me for as long as I could have it. When I type it out, it sounds so self absorbed and greedy, but it's true, so I hope you'll cut me a little slack because this is some deep stuff, and I usually run the other direction when people want to talk about feelings around me._

Although, after typing that last bit, I couldn't help but notice that my palms weren't sweating and I didn't feel nauseous like I always did when Joe wanted to talk about our relationship. Maybe the key was only discussing emotions via email.

_So we both feel unworthy, and we both think the other person could do so much better. Where does that leave us? Is everything exactly as it was before you left for New York except we know the other person isn't going anywhere?_

As I typed it, I found myself chanting, "Please don't say yes to that question." There was no way I could put my neck out there any further, but what I really wanted to know was if there was a chance he'd drop some of his lines about not being relationship material, or were we eternally stuck in this holding pattern of wanting more but unable to have it?

I couldn't risk typing any more and saying something I couldn't take back, so I sent the email and tried to make myself focus on the day. Today was for Vince and was the last training with the leadership team. Well, it was my last initial training, since I'd promised Lester, Tank, Bobby, Cal, Hector, and Hal that they could either have another turn or that we'd do some kind of follow up to our time out.

Then it hit me that I'd nearly finished the first wave of work and Ranger had yet to show me any of the credit cards with my fake names on them. I quickly pulled up a fresh email and addressed that definite breech of our agreement.

_Mr. Manoso, I am writing to let you know of my supreme disappointment in your business methods. While I agreed to do a specific set of tasks, I have yet to be compensated, per the terms of our agreement. I believe that to-date, I have completed six out of the eight objectives given to me and am therefore entitled to have seen three credit cards bearing aliases created for me by RangeMan. I am sending this as notice of my expectation that you will comply with the terms of our agreement and produce the above referenced cards at your earliest convenience. Respectfully, S. Plum _

Satisfied with my taunting of the boss, I hit send and then quickly finished getting ready for the day. I decided to force myself to think only about the teasing note I'd sent off and not dwell on any possible downside to the more serious initial message. It was easier to pretend that series of emails didn't exist until I more fully understood what they meant. I hadn't spent all these years practicing my skills of denial for nothing.

I'd struggled to come up with a good day for Vince because I didn't know him well enough to guess what would be a challenge. He looked like the perfect child of the melting pot of America, of indeterminate origin, with tan skin, short brown hair, and dark eyes. He could easily pass for any number of nationalities, which probably served him well in blending into any circumstance. The only thing I knew for certain was that he had a long standing love affair with his gun. He wasn't in charge of the armory and gun range at the office, but he definitely spent more time there than anyone else I knew.

Les had told me that Vince was a sniper and still got pulled in for one-hit specific missions, so he did everything possible to keep his skills at the highest caliber. I knew if I wanted to make him uncomfortable, I needed to find a way to separate him from his gun, or at least from his more obvious weapons – because I'd been around the guys long enough to know they always had a couple of pieces hidden on them somewhere.

The few shifts I'd worked with him on monitors had taught me that he wasn't the most talkative of the guys but he would answer a question with more than a single word, so there was hope for a little conversation today.

I'd instructed him to dress comfortably, preferably not in black, and to leave his weapons at home. I knew he was going to disregard the second half of the instructions but was pleasantly surprised to see him come out of the stairwell wearing a pair of very faded blue jeans and a white polo shirt. I tried looking for any unidentifiable lumps where he might be packing a gun but could only find bulges in places where I shouldn't be staring.

Forcing my eyes to focus on his face, I held back a smile when he walked over to the driver's side door where I was sitting.

"I can drive," he offered, not demanding but not really asking, either.

"I'm sure you can – quite well, in fact, since most of you guys can – but I didn't give in when Tank wanted to drive, and I'm not going to scoot over for you, either," I replied, hoping that settled things.

Not filling the tense silence with words went against my nature, but I was trying to stretch my own skills. Vince caved after I got to thirty counting silently in my head and walked around to the passenger seat to begrudgingly climb in.

"There's no reason to pout," I told him, surprised at how I sounded like an indulgent mother. "No one else got to take my keys, so you aren't missing out on a treat here." I decided to ignore the fact that Tank had in fact driven for half of our time together, but he hadn't taken my keys; it was more that he tricked them away from me. Now wasn't the time to argue semantics.

The lack of response was obvious, but I didn't really feel him getting mad, either. Admitting defeat would have been too much for his fragile pride, so saying nothing was probably the better option for him.

When I parked at the mall, Vince looked at me, panic stricken. I would have laughed at the expression, but I was afraid he would take it as an insult, so I tried to bite my tongue to keep quiet.

"Relax," I told him. "We aren't here to shop."

That was enough to cause him to let out a long breath. "I heard about Cal's day here and wasn't sure if we were going to do the same thing."

"Not exactly," I replied, unsure of how different he would think this was. "There are two packages hidden in the mall for us to find, so our objective is to locate them both without alerting anyone to the fact that we are there looking for something other than a purchase."

"Just to be clear," he interrupted, "you aren't going to be trying on clothes, and I won't be forced to follow you into Victoria's Secret?"

That time, I did laugh. "No, I'm not here to try on clothes, and you don't have to go to Victoria's Secret." He looked so relieved that I couldn't stop myself from adding, "Although, I do have a coupon, and it _would_ be a shame to let it go to waste."

"I can run home when we're done if you want to do that," he offered.

"Vince, it's over four miles back to the office," I pointed out the obvious, not able to believe he'd rather run in the middle of the day in blue jeans than follow me into a lingerie store for five minutes…well, it might be more accurate to say thirty minutes. The point was the same.

"I don't mind, really," he assured me. It was subtle, but it sounded about as close as the guys would get to begging, so I tucked this episode away in my memory bank of things to dwell on and smile about when no one was around.

"We can argue about that later," I tried to change the subject. "For now, we need to talk about the real reason we're here."

He shifted easily into his all business mode and nodded that he was listening.

Pulling a photo from my purse, I showed him a box wrapped in blue paper with a burgundy-colored bow on top. It was only three inches square, and the bow covered the entire top. "I had somebody plant this box in the mall somewhere, not in a store. Inside the package are instructions on where to find a second box that looks identical."

"So this is a search and rescue mission," he summed up, as though it were that simple.

"Mostly..." I couldn't take away his newfound comfort completely. "But you have to be subtle about it. You don't want anyone else to notice you acting suspiciously, and you don't want to frighten people so that they start walking on the other side of the walkway because of how fiercely you are scanning for threats. You have to blend in so that no one is aware that we are looking for something. As far as the people in that building are concerned, we are just a couple on a shopping trip."

His forehead wrinkled in a way that told me he was trying to find potential hazards in what I was saying. Finally, he nodded and said, "Got it. Find the package, don't scare anybody, and act like a couple."

We were ten feet from the main Macy's entrance when I grabbed his wrist and stopped walking. He instantly put his hand at the back of his belt, making me wonder what he had hidden there that I'd missed. Seeing his eyes moving all over the place, obviously trying to figure out what threat had caused me to stop him, I spoke quickly.

"Everything's okay," I tried to convince him. "There are no threats in the mall in the middle of the afternoon. You can stop scanning everything like you expect one of the FBI's most wanted criminals to pop out of a handicapped parking space."

"But if they did and I wasn't on guard, I would have missed the chance to make the world safer," he replied so quickly, I assumed he was serious.

I was a half second from jumping into a lecture about how it wasn't his responsibility to ensure the world's security singlehandedly when I noticed the corners of his mouth turn up slightly. He was struggling not to smile.

Seeing that he'd just made an attempt to tease me, I felt the need to respond in kind by pulling my hand away and smacking his upper arm with my fist. He laughed then, as though I'd given him the punch line to the world's funniest joke instead of attempting to inflict bodily harm.

"This is going to be fun," he said after pulling himself together.

I forced myself not to shake my hand to relieve some of the throbbing, figuring it was my own stupid fault for hitting the equivalent of a brick wall with it.

A clerk was putting out a new display of spring dresses, making it hard for me to keep walking, since some of them looked like something I'd enjoy wearing. "If you promise to keep walking, I'll buy you one in every color," he promised after placing a hand at the small of my back and pushing lightly to keep me moving.

Reluctantly I continued to walk, but I did turn back and glance at the mannequins once more before responding, "Not orange. I've never looked good in orange."

That earned me another laugh, "Right, no orange, but blue, yellow, green, gray, and black are all acceptable."

I decided to ignore that remark, refusing to believe he was serious about spending money on me just to get me out of the mall quicker. After passing through Macy's and entering the mall itself, I stopped and said, "Okay, how do you want to proceed?"

His eyes narrowed, and then he pulled his shoulders back and replied, "I'd assumed we would walk, bearing to the right at all junctures until we had looped the mall or located the initial package."

"And what are you going to do to keep your cover of just being a guy here shopping with his girlfriend?" I pushed, trying to be sure he understood the real objective here was maintaining a subtle cover. Finding the package was secondary.

"You'll be beside me, so that establishes the cover sufficiently," he responded, obviously not getting the point.

The mall wasn't overly crowded, mainly young mothers and senior citizens, so I figured it wouldn't take him long to see the error of his assumption. "Lead on," I encouraged, watching him as he moved, constantly scanning the area, narrowing his eyes to catch the high places and keeping a slow and deliberate pace.

We'd made it down the first arm of the mall before an older man came up to us. Vince put himself in front of me, using his body to protect me from the threat of an eighty-year-old man walking with the assistance of a four-pronged cane.

"You look like you're lost," the stranger said to Vince before straining his neck to look behind him to me. "And you look a little on the mad side. I know this place pretty well. Is there something I can help you with?"

Vince looked back at me, completely at a loss for words. I tried to give him a quick look to let him know that I known this was going to happen and I'd warned him about it. After pushing what I hoped was a clear ESP message, I stepped around my would-be bodyguard and addressed the kind man in front of us.

"Thank you for your offer, but we aren't lost. We're just disagreeing on the best way to approach our shopping trip. We need to get something for a friend, and we're at a loss about what to buy. My boyfriend here doesn't like being in the mall, so he's hoping to avoid going into any stores until we figure out what we want to purchase, and I'd rather peruse every store until something jumps out at me as inspiration."

"I thought it was something like that," the man said with a chuckle. "My wife and I used to do the same thing." Then he took a step in Vince's direction and said, "Can I can pass on a little tip that will save you years of grief?"

Vince nodded that the man could continue talking.

"Become a member of the bench warmer club. Go to the middle of the mall and sit on the benches while your wife goes up and down each section of this place. She'll know where to find you, you can read the paper or have a cup of coffee, and you won't get under each other's skin when you disagree about what to do."

"The bench warmer club, huh?" Vince asked with a genuine smile.

"Trust me, the happiest men in the mall are all members," our helpful guide assured us before ambling off to continue his walk.

"Now do you believe me that people will notice that you're on edge?" I asked, masking most of my irritation that the guys struggled with this.

"But how do I keep an eye on everything without giving away what I'm doing to the occasional nosey person?" he asked, still scanning the path ahead of us. As he did so, a mother who had been walking with a toddler grabbed her child and moved to the other side of the aisle.

I looked back at Vince, attempting the single eyebrow raise, and repeated his phrase. "Occasional nosey person?"

"All right, I'm no good at this," he confessed, his shoulders slumping at the admission. "What do I need to do?"

"How good is your vision?" I asked, figuring with his background, it had to be pretty good.

"Better than most," he replied without sounding the least bit obnoxious. "Why?"

"I'm going into the Hallmark store here to look at cards. You can lean against the wall at the edge of the store and scope out a wide section of the mall from there. Every so often, you need you glance back in where I am so that anyone observing you will know that you're waiting for me and will discount you as doing anything other than just trying to pass the time. Give me some kind of signal, and we'll move to another spot so that you can look beyond what you can see from here," I suggested, glad that he nodded in agreement with my plan.

Forty minutes later, I was having a good time smelling the new lotions in Bath and Body Works when I saw Vince push off from the wall and go to the center of the mall where there were a few benches around some large potted plants. He pulled out a small blue box with a deep red bow and then sat on the bench, holding it in his hands and attempting not to smile. I could see the pride on his face, feeling as though he'd accomplished something but trying to be cool about it.

Sitting down the tester of a light lotion called Sweet Pea, I moved to sit next to him and nudged his arm with my shoulder. "You were pretty slick there."

He moved his hand to offer the box to me, but I shook my head no. "You were the one patient enough to move through the mall slowly and undercover, so you should get to open it."

After he pulled the bow off carefully, he handed it to me and said, "Nice touch with the plum color."

I hadn't considered that, but he was right, so I took it and slipped it in the top of my purse. Everything else was in there, so having some gift wrap didn't seem like that much of a stretch.

Inside the box was a small slip of paper that read, "Go back to the counter with the red envelope. No need to ask. You'll get the box when you act like someone not looking for it."

Vince looked confused, so I explained about Cal's exercise and how the clerk in the shoe department had slipped the red envelope in the bag.

When I pointed out the second part of the clue, he shrugged and said, "I guess that means I need to relax a little more and look like a guy there watching his girlfriend try on shoes without waiting for a most wanted criminal to jump out of the display."

I couldn't help but laugh at his echo of my warning before we came into the mall. "Let's go look at some shoes," I encouraged, taking his hand in mine and dragging him back in the direction we'd started.

Twenty minutes later, I was having a wonderful time trying on the new line of sandals for the summer, but Vince looked like he was one footwear suggestion away from running from the store screaming. I wasn't sure it was an improvement when he let his head fall back and slumped down into the chair.

There was no way I would admit it to him, but I was confused about where the package was, too. The clerk that had helped us before was nowhere around, so I didn't know how to get any information about where it might be, either.

While I was staring at my feet, loving the little strappy heels I was wearing but mourning the fact that I didn't have anything to wear with them, Vince stood up and walked over.

"This isn't working," he announced.

"What do you suggest?" I wondered, completely clueless and hoping he had a suggestion. "Do you want to try on shoes for a while?"

"No," he quickly answered, making it obvious he wasn't going to play my part for any reason. He glanced around and then looked back down at me to say, "Give me five minutes."

Without waiting for a response, he slipped away and appeared to be heading for the exit to the parking lot. If he left me here, I was going to give him hell for being the only guy to abandon his mission. Even Tank had stuck with me, and he'd had to deal with Grandma Mazur.

Fortunately, I was still in the shoe department, so distractions were abundant. I was on my second pair of shoes since he'd walked away when he reappeared with a Macy's bag in his hand.

"Maybe if you look for something to match this, it will help you decide what you'd like."

He was holding the package out in my direction, so I took it and peeked inside, shocked to see a royal blue wrap-around dress like the ones at the entrance we'd discussed. "I know I said every color, but that seemed like overkill, and this one will match your eyes." As he mentioned my eyes, he diverted his gaze, obviously not willing to look me in the face as he admitted to noticing something personal about me.

The size on the tag was right, which made me wonder how on earth he knew what to get. But based on the amount of embarrassment currently on display on his cheeks, I didn't think I could push him to ask about that at the moment.

The silver shoes I was wearing matched the dress pretty well, but the clerk leaned in and looked before shaking her head no and disappearing to the back. When she came back out, she had a box in her hand and said, "These would be perfect."

Inside was a pair of shoes that appeared to be the exact same shade of blue. When I tried them on, I was shocked at how comfortable they felt. And the three inch heels were high enough to make me feel attractive without being so high that I needed to include an ace bandage in my purse in case I rolled an ankle.

After I got the straps adjusted and stood up, Vince grinned and said, "Those are nice."

"I'll take them," I said to the clerk, loving the perfect match and the vote of confidence from my current partner.

She gladly boxed them back up for me, and I replaced my boots before meeting her at the register.

After completing the transaction, she handed me a bag with my new purchase and then grinned at Vince. "You were such a supportive boyfriend, I think you deserve this." At that, she pulled out a box identical to the one we'd found in the mall and handed it to him.

He thanked her profusely – well, by RangeMan standards he did. In reality, he repeated "thank you" twice.

Back in the CRV, I said, "Give me the receipt for the dress, and I'll get you reimbursed. You didn't need to do that, especially not out of your own pocket."

"No," he quickly objected, almost seeming offended. "You are giving up your time to work with us on skills we obviously need help with, so it's the very least I can do."

We drove for a while in silence, and when he started shifting in his seat a mile away from Haywood, I had a feeling I knew what was coming next, so I decided to cut him off. "You did very well today."

"You have always been a terrible liar," Vince disagreed.

"When I write this up, I plan on saying that you accomplished your mission and even improvised a bit at the end to get us out of there in a reasonable amount of time." I pointed out how he'd saved the day in my opinion.

"I tipped off an ancient guy about what I was doing, and I scared a mom with her kid," he reminded me of our less than smooth beginning. "If you hadn't suggested how we approach finding the first package, we'd probably be in a holding cell right now waiting for the mall cops to call the TPD to come interrogate us."

"Okay, so you needed a little help in getting on board with how to blend in," I agreed. "But that was the point of this whole exercise in the first place," I reminded him. "So in that respect, it was a success, because once you got a little brush up on a few things, you finished it perfectly on your own."

"I'm still not happy with how it started." He was definitely grumbling now. "Look, is there any way I can have another chance? I want to get it right from the beginning, not have you bail me out and then limp along to the end. It doesn't sit right with me."

"You want a do-over?" I summed up what he was asking, wondering why I'd expected Vince to be different from any of the other guys.

"Yeah, can we do that? I'll do better the next time," he assured me, as though he thought I would refuse because he was incapable of maintaining a cover in public.

"You did better this time," I repeated my earlier comment as I pulled up outside the building.

"Please," he said, pulling out the big guns and ensuring he'd get his way.

I caved, like we both knew I would once he used the P word. "I'll have to talk to Ranger about how long he wants to drag out the training. If he's okay with it, then I'll get in touch with you about when we can go back out."

I watched him climb out and then enter the building, wondering why the guys insisted on wearing cargoes all the time. Sure, they were practical pants, but the molded denim of Vince's faded jeans went beyond practical and straight to award-worthy ass framing material. It was a shame Hector wasn't here to agree with me.

Shaking off those thoughts, I put the car in drive and headed back to my apartment. I needed to write up what I hoped was my last report and then get some guidance about how to handle the guys wanting another chance. I didn't want to start over, because I was completely out of ideas, but they were pretty insistent on getting another opportunity to practice their skills.

Maybe Ranger would have some advice on how to handle the guys not wanting to quit, and there might be a response to my email about him honoring the terms of our bargain for me to train the guys. Thinking about teasing Ranger had me driving a little faster to get back to my apartment.

I refused to consider what any other correspondence from him might say. I'd just gotten a new dress and a new pair of shoes. No matter what other messages might be waiting on my laptop, I refused to think anything other than happy thoughts.


	9. Plans for Shock Treatment

_JE created all the characters below. I'm just having a little fun with her creation._

_Jenny (JenRar) I can't imagine posting without your careful eye reviewing it first. Thank you for the time you spend on each chapter as the beta on this story._

**Chapter 9 – Plans for Shock Treatment**

_Dear Ms. Plum, I am sorry that you believe I have not fulfilled the terms of our agreement. However, in considering your claim, I feel I must disagree with your assertion that you have completed the tasks given to you, thus warranting payment. According to the training reports prepared by your own hand, each of the men you have worked with have requested additional time under your tutelage. My understanding therefore, is that you have not completed their training, hence the lack of payment on my part. If I have misunderstood the status, please correct me. Likewise, if you are seeking to amend our agreement, please let me know and I will consider your terms of renegotiation. Sincerely yours, ~ R_

Rex jumped off his wheel and ran into his soup can when I burst out laughing at Corporate Ranger's response. I had been nervous most of the day that Ranger was going to send me a note basically telling me I'd gotten way too serious entirely too quickly and ask me to leave him alone. But this response to my teasing email was exactly what I needed to know that no matter what else, the friendship between us would last. Suddenly, I wasn't as afraid to open the other note from him.

_For the first time since I started this company, I feel like saying to hell with what I am supposed to do and just jump in the company jet to come back to Trenton. I would love to be able to look in your eyes and have the conversation I think we both want to have instead of trying to type out just enough to let you know how I feel without saying so much that I spook you._

Ranger was holding back because he was afraid of scaring me? To say that was unexpected would be like saying the Titanic had hit a little ice cube. It didn't come close to describing the understatement there.

_Would you consider me weak if I said there is so much I want to say but I want to wait until I can look in your eyes to say it? I don't need time to work out how I feel, but I don't want to do it electronically. I want to be able to see your reaction because it's the only way I'll be able to believe what's happening. Ask me questions, push me to open up, but this one area, I'd like to take off the table just so that we can do it right once I'm back in town. In the meantime, I will say that we definitely aren't in the same place we were before I left – at least, I'm not. This is the first time that I've ever felt excitement and genuine hope over what could be – and that's new territory for me. I've never minded blazing a new trail, especially not if the destination was someplace I want to go this badly._

By the time I'd read his note six times, I was grinning like a school girl. It certainly sounded like Ranger had some kind of feelings for me that went beyond just being my employer, and it seemed like he wanted to confess them to me, but he was still tied up in New York for a while. The seventh read through had the words _company jet_ jumping out at me, and my hand was on my cell phone before I even got the thought through my brain.

I never head it ring before a deep voice answered, "Yo."

"Hey, Tank, what's this I hear about RangeMan having a company jet?" I was trying to go for casual, but even I could hear the eagerness in my voice.

I got a booming laugh as a response, so I waited patiently for the big guy to pull himself together.

"RangeMan has two helicopters, a boat in Miami, and a corporate jet. Primarily, we use it for transporting clients and supplies that we don't want carefully searched in standard airport security, but sometimes we use it instead of flying commercial. Why?"

"If an employee wanted to get from say, Trenton to New York as soon as possible, and didn't like driving in the city, what would they need to do?" I blurted out, only half forming a plan as I spoke.

"They would talk to their supervisor and get the trip approved, and then depending on the purpose of the trip, they would either book it on their corporate credit card or they would speak to me about getting clearance for the jet," Tank replied, as though reading from an employee manual.

As Tank spoke, I realized I was really only doing RangeMan a favor. As far as I knew, that didn't constitute official employment. "What if someone wanted to get from Trenton to New York but they aren't technically an employee with a direct supervisor?"

"Then in that case, they'd call me and tell me what was going on in that pretty little head of theirs and we'd figure out an attack plan together," Tank replied. We might have been on the phone, but I could tell from the sound of his voice that he was smiling. I must have paused too long because he spoke up once more. "Does this have anything to do with the email I just got from our boss telling me he was about ready to say to hell with the New York office just so he could come back home now?"

"It might?" I replied, grimacing that it sounded like a question instead of a statement.

"Hmm." His noise didn't give me much to go off of. "I think I could help you if I understood a little better what was going on. So, I'll let you know that the leadership team and I are going out for dinner at Shorty's at nineteen hundred hours. That group of men can collectively approve just about any expense for the company, so if there's something you want to ask for, feel free to show up for pizza and give us enough details to consider your request."

"You want me to tell seven guys what I haven't even told Ranger?" I blurted out, convinced that was not only a bad idea but physically impossible.

"I want you to make a convincing enough case for us to approve an expense for a person who isn't technically our employee," he pointed out.

I had a nagging suspicion that he was teasing me intentionally to make this harder, but I couldn't figure out why.

"I'll think about it," I replied, worried that my silence was rude.

"Don't think too long," he threatened. "We order as soon as we get there, and the seven of us can go through five pizzas pretty fast."

With that little piece of news, he hung up the phone without giving me the chance to thank him or say good bye. If I was going to be forced to go through another round of training with each of them, then I was going to insist upon part of it including phone etiquette and manners.

It was only five thirty, so a little quick math told me that I had an hour and a half before I had to be at Shorty's, if I decided to go. Surely that would give me enough time to figure out if this was a horrible idea.

My mind was all over the place, and I realized after thirty minutes of trying to think it through, I hadn't made any progress. Finally, I decided to channel my mother and try to organize my thoughts in order to move forward. I grabbed a piece of paper, which turned out to be the back side of a menu for the new sandwich shop down the street, and drew a line down the middle. On one side of the line, I wrote the words "to go," and on the other, I wrote "not to go." Then I set about trying to organize all the arguments of what I should do into one side or the other.

When I was done, the column not to go said expense, having to admit what I'm doing, the possibility of surprising Ranger in a bad way, and having to figure out what to say once I'm in New York. It was a pretty convincing argument to stay in Trenton, expect for the fact that the other column was twice as long.

The reasons to go included finally taking control of my own life, the chance to fly, surprising Ranger in a good way, a grand gesture that would show how I felt so I didn't have to tell him with words, the possibility of helping in New York, the chance to be with Ranger now, no more secret kisses in alleys, unlimited supply of good smelling t-shirts to sleep in, and free shower gel. At that point, my mind was beginning to think of other ways I could benefit from being around Ranger. It had been months since anyone other than my shower curtain had seen me naked, and I was getting desperate for a release that included a partner not motivated by water pressure and a limited hot water supply.

Ranger had said he didn't want to discuss how he felt until he could see my face to know how I really felt, and I could see the wisdom in that. If I opened my heart to him and his blank face slammed down then I would have the answer I needed. I felt like our notes back and forth had picked up momentum and having to put it on hold for who knows how long would create the opportunity for us to decide to keep things paused indefinitely because the fire to keep moving forward had been put out.

I glanced at the clock and saw that if I left right then, I could probably make it to Shorty's at seven o'clock or a few minutes after. And just like that, my decision felt made for me. I jumped up, grabbed my pocket book and keys, and flew down the stairs. I tried breathing deeply as I drove to the other side of town in order to keep from hyperventilating at the idea of having to tell somebody – no, scratch that...at having to tell seven guys that I worked with how I felt about their boss and friend.

I pulled into the parking lot and took the last space I could find, near the bushes at the back of the lot. I should have been irritated that a string of shiny black Explorers were taking up the entire front row but decided that I wasn't next to the dumpster, so I'd take that as a sign that my parking karma was at least improving marginally.

Once I arrived and was no longer looking at my list of reasons for doing this, I lost a little of my courage. A knock on my window not only caused me to scream and nearly swallow my gum but produced the smiling face of Hector, who was motioning for me to get out of the car.

As much as I didn't want to do this anymore, I also didn't think I could find the words to explain to Hector why I'd driven over and then turned around to go home. We'd done amazingly well while dancing, but I didn't know how much of that was because he understood what I was saying and how much was because the language of appreciating a good looking male rear end was universal.

He opened my door, and I allowed him to take my hand and pull me out and drag me to the restaurant door. The noise and smell that hit me when we walked in helped to calm me a little. Tank had mentioned pizza, but if I could get him to include beer, as well, then I might be able to find the courage I needed to do this. Surely the marinara would give me a boost, too. With that thought, I followed Hector to a large table at the back, where the guys literally cheered when I walked in.

"Geez, you guys really know how to make a girl feel wanted," I told them, trying to push through my blushing to get the attention off of me quickly.

"Beautiful, if we'd thought you would have joined us, we would have invited you to come along a lot sooner," Lester confessed, standing up to pull out the chair next to him for me to sit down.

"Do you really think I'd turn down the chance to eat pizza surrounded by so many good-looking men?" I challenged.

Then I looked around as Hal turned red and Tank pulled at the collar on his RangeMan shirt. Vince was staring at his fingernails, and Hector was grinning as though he came to these meals for the same reason. Now that I saw how easy it was to get to them, I was beginning to feel a little braver and allowed myself to think that this might not have been the bad idea I feared it was in the parking lot.

For the next half hour, we shot the shit, drank through a few pitchers of beer, and then descended upon the pizzas when they arrived, doing some serious damage in record time. It had been a while since I'd had a fully loaded pizza, so when I was halfway through my first slice, Cal pointed out my enjoyment of dinner was going to make it hard for them to get out of the dinning room without embarrassing themselves.

Realizing their cognitive ability had been potentially compromised between my moaning, and the beer, when Tank used his napkin to wipe his mouth and said, "Now, that we've all taken the edge off, why don't you try explaining to us why you need to get to New York fast?" I had a false sense of security enough answer him.

"Ranger and I have been emailing each other throughout the day since he's been gone, and we've hit the wall of what we can type about, and now we're to the point of needing to see each other face to face," I blurted out, hoping it would work like ripping off a bandaid. It would sting initially, but once the pain subsided, it would be better.

"Why is now the time to have this discussion?" Bobby asked, with no indication that he was joking.

"Ranger is going through some hard stuff in New York, so I think a friendly face of support would help him to manage everything he needs to right now." I realized my response wasn't exactly answering his question, but it made sense to me.

"Would you be a help to finish the work or a distraction that slowed him down?" Vince challenged.

"I'd like to be a help, but I can't guarantee that I wouldn't be the latter," I had to admit.

"You're supposed to be training us," Tank pointed out. "Does this mean you're quitting?"

As soon as he mentioned training, my brain kicked into gear and I had my angle for making the case. "No, I'm not quitting, but Ranger tasked me with training the whole leadership team, which includes him. He told me that all the resources of RangeMan were at my disposal and no cost was too great for getting this accomplished."

"True," Lester agreed, "but why do you need to go to New York to train us, since we're all here?"

I smiled, realizing I had them exactly where I wanted them. "You're all here, but Ranger is in New York, and he's a part of the leadership team. I've been working with him remotely, but we've hit an impasse where I can only complete his training in person. So to complete my first pass of exercises with the leadership team, I need to see him face to face."

Tank smiled when I said the last part and then asked, "Are you saying that the boss needs help in working on his skills of subtlety?"

I looked at the big guy I'd gotten to know over Italian food and shook my head no. "I'm saying that there are a whole host of skills that would make RangeMan more competitive and even Ranger isn't comfortable using every available skill in his arsenal."

When Tank nodded, I knew I had him. "If we allowed this, do you think it would help him to level off a little?"

That question confused me. Ranger always seemed level and in control to me, so trying to picture him any other way didn't work. "What do you mean?"

Bobby laughed at my question. "Six days ago, the New York office called me to ask what was going on with the boss. He'd taken off to the gym at a different time than usual and had spent nearly ninety minutes working through the guys who were willing to spar with him, taking every one of them down."

Les picked up the story then. "The next day, he was mumbling about his woman being guarded while shopping for lingerie, which confused the hell out of the New York office because they didn't realize the boss had an official woman, and if he did, they didn't understand why he was pissed about her buying lingerie."

I tried not to smile at the way Les said lingerie, even though he had a slight accent that seemed to only pop out at that word, making it sound sexy as hell and twice as naughty as it would have if I'd said the same thing.

Then Cal jumped in. "Next day, he was back in the gym, going on and on about somebody having their hands all over his woman while dancing, which scared the hell out of the guys there because they figured if the boss really did have a woman and somebody else was putting moves on her then they were as good as dead. And since he seemed to be stuck cleaning up their office, they were afraid he was going to transfer that aggression to them."

Hector was grinning from ear to ear as Cal spoke, making me think he understood more than we gave him credit for.

When Hal started talking, it drew my attention from my dance partner. "Then I got a call that the boss had been mumbling under his breath about helping plan the dates, which made the guys wonder if Ranger was asking for help or planning on helping someone else get lucky." Despite his slightly red cheeks, I could see Hal was still smiling, which meant the fact that the other office was basically speculating about Ranger instead of Hal was amusing to him.

Tank closed the circle by saying, "This afternoon, I got a call wondering if Ranger's last mission had included a head injury because he'd been talking to himself all week, which he never did before. They said it was like he was off center and channeling someone else."

At the _someone else_ part, all the eyes turned to me. I lifted my hands up, trying to prove I was defenseless, "Don't look at me; I didn't give him a brain injury."

"Maybe not, but clearly the boss needs some kind of help to recapture his former focus, and we need to know if you think you can provide that," Tank explained.

Pressure wasn't my favorite thing in the world, but I did seem to focus well when I was under the gun. So, I took a deep breath and let out the words as they popped into my head. "Guys, I have to level with you. I want to go to New York for personal reasons. Ranger and I have some unfinished business that I think we can resolve better in person, and based on what you're saying, the sooner we have this conversation, the better it will be for everyone involved. But to be fair, there is the possibility that us talking might not go the direction I think it will, in which case, he might be worse off than he is now. You know him better than I do, so I need your help in knowing what to do. Do I go, or do I stay?"

"The cop?" Hector asked from the end of the table.

"Isn't a part of this. You know Joe and I have been over for months. I wish him well, but not with me," I repeated what I'd been saying for weeks whenever someone would ask when we were getting back together.

Vince pointed out, "Ranger's not exactly a stay at home with a regular schedule kind of guy."

"When have I ever asked for a normal life? Why does everybody automatically assume I want some kind of scheduled existence? My life isn't exactly a routine nine-to-five kind of thing," I responded with a shiver at that idea.

"There's a whole bunch of shit in Ranger's past he'll never be able to tell you about," Bobby reminded me. "A lot of his history is so classified that we don't even have access to it."

"If it isn't directly involved in the present, then I don't need to know about it. It's not like I want to dig up all my old bones, either," I calmly argued in return.

"There are people in the world who want nothing more than to hurt Ranger. Anyone who gets close to him runs the risk of either being hurt indirectly or intentionally because of their relationship with him," Cal said.

"And because I have no enemies of my own, that would be so unusual for me, right?" I could hear the sarcasm in my voice but needed to be sure the guys understood. "I have enemies of my own. I don't doubt that Ranger's past is much worse than mine, but in the few years I've known him, he's gotten hurt because of my crazies more than I've been at risk because of his."

"Gentleman." Tank seemed to think the grilling part of the evening was over, and he moved around the table, making eye contact with every man and receiving a slight nod from each of them.

"Stephanie, you need to go home and pack for a few days. The leadership team is sending you to New York with two objectives. First, you need to complete the training assignment given to you by Ranger by working directly with him. But more importantly, you need to have a conversation with the boss – a no excuses, blunt, answer any question kind of conversation so that both of you will finally stop fighting this thing between you and give into it. Based on the answers you gave us, you're ready for it, so you may have to be the aggressor to get Ranger ready, too, but we believe in your skills."

The ceiling at Shorty's was a yellow color, but the way the tint was darker in some places made me think it was actually cream at one point and had aged to its current yellow hue. I knew this because hearing Tank talk was making moisture pool up in my eyes and I was desperately trying to blink it away while looking up to keep any tears from falling.

"I can't make any promises, but I'll try my best," I finally managed to say.

"And just to be sure you have every tool you need to succeed, we're sending you in with backup," Tank added.

"Backup?" I asked, trying to figure out how to have a conversation with Ranger about how we felt with several large guys standing behind us. Wasn't this the kind of scene that started this whole training thing to begin with?

Lester spoke first. "I'm going to fly you down to make sure you arrive safely."

Bobby jumped in next. "And I'm going with you to check on the med station in New York and to be sure the guys who have been spending time on the mats with Ranger are healing up okay."

Cal finished out the volunteer duty. "And I'm going to be your bodyguard in case you go out while you're there. Somebody I know had me practicing that skill and suggested she would let me shadow her anytime it was deemed necessary."

"I did say that," I agreed, "but I don't think I need a shadow just to talk to Ranger."

"He goes," Tank said in that voice that implied he was decreeing it so resistance was futile, "or you don't. There's no way I'm sending you into the city without someone to watch over you."

"I'll be there in case _you_ go out," Cal spoke in his own defense. "When you and Ranger are together, I definitely don't need to be a part of that."

"The boss would want him there," Hector spoke up. "Seeing you allow a shadow would be important to the boss."

"He's a man of action, so what he sees you doing will say a hell of a lot more than hearing you say what you'll do," Vince pointed out, as though he were some kind of wise relationship guru.

"All right." I threw up my hands in surrender, realizing they obviously had the whole trip planned out before I made my case tonight. "I'll go with the three of you. But don't expect any miracles; this is all new to me."

Hal floored me when he spoke up next. "You don't know, do you?"

"Know what?" I wondered.

"We already think of you as our miracle," Lester explained, looking so serious that I couldn't make a joke out of what he was saying.

Didn't that just melt a girl's heart? How did I respond to that kind of sweetness from such tough guys? "So when does our little road trip start?"

That question earned me smiles all around.

"Go home and pack," Tank answered. "We'll make the arrangements and call you once everything is squared away. Unless something comes up, you should be in the air in a couple of hours tops."

"I'll pick you up and bring you to the airstrip," Hal volunteered.

And just that quickly, I found myself being ushered to the door of Shorty's and being showered with hugs and well wishes of luck. After everyone walked away, I was left there with just Tank.

"What if this doesn't work? What if he's pissed that I took his plane and just showed up in New York?"

"He was already expecting the plane because Bobby has a big shipment of medical supplies he needed to get up there to fix the damage done to the medical suite," Tank explained. I knew this plan had come together too easily for it to have been completely spur of the moment.

I decided not to dwell on the fact that they'd basically tricked me into confessing how I felt about Ranger since they already planned on flying to New York without me. "Then what if he's mad that I tagged along?"

"Won't happen," Tank spoke the words as though it weren't possible.

"Humor me. What will happen if it does?" I needed to know there was a backup plan.

Tank smiled then, but the edge to his expression kept it from assuring me. "If it doesn't work, then Bobby will drug Ranger and Lester will fly him back home, where I'll be waiting to kick his ass when he comes back around."

"Why would you need to kick his ass?" I couldn't understand the RangeMan way of discipline.

"Because there's a standing order that nobody hurts you and gets to walk away. If this doesn't work, you're going to get hurt." He paused and raised an eyebrow, as though giving me a chance to tell him he was wrong. When I didn't contradict him in any way, he spoke again, "And if you get hurt, then I have been fully empowered to carry out the judgment of breaking that order."

"I don't always understand why you guys do what you do," I blurted out honestly.

"You don't have to understand it," he assured me. "But you can depend on us handling it if something goes wrong."

I took a step back, as though I were about to leave, and then looked at the large man in front of me once more. "I trust you."

Tank's face softened then to something I'd never seen, and then his big hands moved to pull me against his solid chest in a hug that felt like I was being cocooned in muscles. "Hell, Little Girl, if the boss doesn't get his head out of his ass and jump at this chance, then I'll bring you back here and do what he's too much of a pussy to try."

My mind decided not to put too much meaning in Tank's words. I knew that trust was a big thing among the guys, so I was going to put his over the-top-reaction to the shock of me placing that kind of belief in him.

It was strange that for once in my life, I didn't feel my trust was being blindly given. These men had proven their skills, their devotion, and their unwavering support of me time after time. I might not always believe in my own ability to get something done, but I knew better than to bet against my guys. Tank was convinced my going to New York was the right move, so I was going to take some of his confidence and try channeling some of their kick-ass attitude. Besides, I had the element of surprise on my side, so Ranger might be too shocked to resist.


	10. Actions Speak Louder

_JE created the characters below. I don't deserve credit for anything except the mess they're in right now._

_Jenny (JenRar) thank you so much for your careful eye and helpful suggestions as the beta on this story. _

**Chapter 10 – Actions Speak Louder than Words**

For a person that never enjoyed flying, I had to admit that being in the RangeMan plane took away nearly all of my usual fears. For one thing, the cabin was like being at Haywood – mostly decorated in dark wood and black leather. The seats were more comfortable than my bed, and there was a fully-stocked refrigerator at the front along with a small cabinet of snacks. Admittedly, all of them were healthy in nature, but still, knowing I wouldn't go hungry was a relief.

Finally, I think being able to walk up to the cockpit and kiss the spiky hair of the pilot helped me to trust that the guy flying the plane knew what he was doing. Of course, when Les offered to put the plane on auto pilot and then help me earn my own wings by initiating me into the mile high club, I realized that no matter how official he looked surrounded by buttons and knobs, he was still the fun loving playboy that had almost been put in handcuffs at the park eight days ago.

I took advantage of the wi-fi access to send another email to Ranger, taunting him about my desire to renegotiate the terms we'd originally settled on. I pointed out that Hector didn't really want more training; he just wanted to go clubbing with me again. And Hal didn't request additional time professionally; he was merely asking for help in planning a date. Since neither of those constituted additional work for RangeMan, I felt he had to agree that two-eighths of my work was completed. In light of that, he needed to share at least one credit card created with an alias for me.

By the time I was satisfied with my email and had sent it off, Lester's voice came through the speakers, announcing that we were making our descent and would be on the ground in a matter of moments. Then he suggested, "Everyone should now re-buckle your seat belt, unless a little curly-haired brunette wants to come up here and help me hold the steering column."

I shut down my laptop, surprised to see that the landing strips was within view, and I had yet to grip my arm rest even once. I didn't fool myself into thinking that flights on the small plane were always that smooth, but since I had enough to be stressed about already, I was glad a rough trip wasn't adding to my discomfort.

After we climbed down the six steps to the ground, I looked at Les and asked, "Now what?"

"You're in New York, Beautiful," he pointed out with a grin, "We take a cab."

I looked at the three large men in front of me and asked, "_A_ cab?"

Bobby slung an arm around my shoulder and said, "Come with me, Bomber, and we'll show you how to enjoy this city."

I followed them blindly, not really having a choice since I didn't know where I was or where I was going. "Where are we going to stay?" I asked after Bobby and Lester squeezed in on either side of me, leaving Cal to sit up front with a rather frightened-looking taxi driver.

"Do they even know we're coming?" I added another thought before anyone had a chance to respond to my first worry. "What if there are no rooms available? We can't just all crash in Ranger's apartment, can we?"

"Slow down, Beautiful," Lester advised, putting his index finger over my lips to be sure I got the message and didn't start up with more rapid-fire concerns.

"In all the satellite offices, the seventh floor is always Ranger's penthouse apartment and the sixth floor has three one bedroom apartments for the rest of the core team to call home when we're there. Bobby and I have our own place, and Cal will be bunking in Tank's while we're here," Lester explained. "And should the unlikely event occur that the boss doesn't welcome you to seven, then consider yourself fully invited to share some Santos-style hospitality. I only have one bed, but I promise to do everything in my power to make you very comfortable in it."

As an alternative to smacking him like my instinct suggested, I turned my head and rested on his shoulder instead.

It took a few seconds before Lester relaxed with me leaning on him, and then he whispered, low enough that only I could hear, "Trust me, if the boss doesn't want you with him, there is a line of us a mile long that would love a chance to show you how much we want you."

I didn't respond, not sure if he was serious or not, or if there was even an appropriate thing to say to that. So I let it go and watched as we sped past buildings and buzzed around people out walking late at night. This truly was the city that never slept.

We were east of Manhattan, but not quite in Long Island. We'd flown into a general airfield to avoid the crowded conditions at the major airports. RangeMan had a hanger there so according to Les we were okay to park our transport vehicle and walk away. I knew that Bobby had some substantial looking boxes of medical gear in the cargo hold, which was why I was told we were taking the jet. Then during the flight, the guys had been talking about Ranger needing the plane to deliver a package in a few days if everything went according to plan. I had no idea what that meant, but I trusted the guys that if they suggested flying instead of driving, there had to be a good reason why.

Before too long, we came to an abrupt stop in front of a building that was covered in black reflective glass and was seven stories tall. I didn't need to seek out the logo on the front door to know this was the local RangeMan office. By the time I got out of the cab, Cal already had my duffle bag and his own, so I allowed him to lead me to the front door, with Bobby and Les flanking me. I stifled a grin at the image we must have produced. Here I was, a nobody from Trenton, being guarded like the president. That comparison did make me laugh, because based on the recent scandal with the secret service, I was probably being guarded _more_ securely than the president.

We walked straight to the front desk, where Lester gave a nod to the guy at the front desk.

"Mr. Santos," the young man called out as we attempted to keep walking past.

Lester turned around without a smile, making me think that down here, the guys were held in higher esteem than they were in Jersey. I couldn't picture Binkie ever saying, "Mr. Santos." At least, not without cracking up all the guys around him.

Clearly the man at the front desk was nervous about addressing Lester, but he mustered up enough courage to say, "I need your guest to check in so I can log her presence while she's in the building."

I watched Lester's chest expand as he drew in a slow deep breath. "This is Stephanie Plum. She is a guest of the boss, myself, and Mr. Brown. She does not have to be logged in because she is an employee of RangeMan in Trenton, but she is to be treated with the utmost respect. Am I clear?"

"Sir, yes sir," the young man replied, sounding more like a recruit in the Army than what I referred to as my Merry Men.

Bobby indicated we should continue moving after that explanation, so I allowed myself to be pushed forward into the main foyer as we waited for the elevators. I figured the guys were humoring me, since they would have taken the steps if we'd been in Trenton.

After Les joined us, Cal asked, "What floor?"

"Let's start on five and see if he's still working," Bobby suggested.

I was grateful that the layout of the building was the same so that even if I was in a new place, it was unlikely I would get lost. When the elevator doors opened and we walked out, a hush fell over an already quiet office. It was only about fifteen minutes before eleven at night, but there were still about six guys on the main floor, and I knew in the control room, there would be at least two more with their eyes on the screens.

Even though no one stood up and stared at us, I could still feel eyes on me, and I struggled not to fidget uncomfortably.

Before it got unbearable enough for me to speak up, a young man came forward and looked at Bobby to ask, "Would you like me to escort your guest to a conference room, sir?"

Assuming I was the guest, I looked back to Bobby to see how he answered. There was no way I was going to be hidden away while the guys figured out how to tell Ranger I was here. It was too late now to back down, so they were just going to have to man up and spill the beans.

As my mind was spinning, I managed to pick up enough of Bobby's response to know that he'd dismissed the volunteer and informed him that I was a RangeMan employee. I made a mental note to ask why he and Les were saying that, because it wasn't true. At best, I was a contract worker, and even that wasn't completely accurate because I had no official contract that I was aware of.

While I was lost mulling over the various ways I could be classified, I heard a door slam against a wall, and instinct made my face turn toward the noise. The corner office, the one Tank used in Trenton, had the most beautiful sight standing in the doorway. Ranger had come out – with a flourish, it appeared, based on the new indentation the door knob made against the plaster when it crashed into it with force.

Even with his blank face secure, I thought he was beautiful. Of course, I'd never tell him that, because I could only imagine how he'd bristle at such a feminine description of his rugged good looks. His hair wasn't pulled in a tie at the back of his neck. Instead, it was down over his shoulders, and it was all I could do to fight the urge to move to him so that I could run my fingers through it. In all the time I'd known him, I'd never seen him work in the office with his hair loose.

The seconds ticked by, and the guys who had been attempting to hide their staring earlier were now standing to gawk at the scene in front of them. I guess it was rather strange looking. Who knew what Ranger was thinking, what with his stone face, but the image of three big guys in their RangeMan uniforms surrounding me in a blue shirt and jeans, just standing there looking at the boss, was probably confusing.

"Is there a threat I'm unaware of?" Ranger spoke first, looking at me, but I didn't think he expected me to answer.

Lester must have thought the same thing, as he responded, "No threat, but we did think it wise to escort Stephanie here for the continuation of the training you requested of her and for a renegotiation she mentioned."

I knew then he'd read my email, because his blank face slipped when one eyebrow raised and the left corner of his mouth tipped up marginally. To most people, there wasn't much change, but to me, it felt like a huge victory.

"Then I suggest you come into my office so that we get right to…renegotiating." The pause before the final word made it abundantly clear that Ranger wasn't the least bit interested in working out new terms for my work.

I took a hesitant step forward, thinking I needed to play this cool. The formal way everyone had acted in the few minutes I'd been here made me think this office was nothing like home. Since I knew Ranger didn't like to flaunt his emotions there, I had to assume he would be even more closed off here. When his smile grew and his hands lifted from his sides, it looked as though he were opening his arms subtly, inviting me to find my place between them. That small movement was all it took to help my feet decide I was thinking too much and I flew across the office and flung myself into his arms.

He pulled me up, allowing me to wrap myself around him with my arms tight on his shoulders, my legs hooked at his hips, and my ankles locked behind him. His hands were supporting my rear end, and even though I knew he'd never drop me, I couldn't make myself relax my grip on him. I needed to hold on to convince myself this was true. I was in his arms, and he'd invited me to come to him. This was real – _he_ was real – and my heart was about to beat out of my chest from the excitement and the _at last_ of it all.

Strangely, it would have been a perfect time for our lips to have crashed down on each other, but after I climbed up his frame, we seemed to freeze that way, just staring at each other, searching for evidence that everything we had shared via email was just as true in person. For my part, I found the way I felt when I'd thought of Ranger over the last seventy-two hours was intensifying now that I could see him in person.

It wasn't until a voice I didn't recognize said, "How long do you think it will take him to finally kiss her? Just looking at each other and not doing anything is hot, but kissing would be totally smoking."

The words made me blush, but it caused Ranger's blank face to come down, which pissed me off. I had lost myself in the emotion I could see in his eyes, and now some idiot had ruined that for me. I had no skills to speak of, but at the moment, I was ready to call somebody to the mats, and I was convinced I could take them down.

Ranger's mind must have been running in a similar direction as mine because he looked around and narrowed his eyes before saying, "Bertelli, mats 0500."

"You're getting up at five o'clock in the morning to teach him a lesson?" I asked, trying to be sure I understood.

"He's young. He has to learn somehow," Ranger explained, and then his eyebrows came together like he was considering something complicated. "Babe, why is Cal here?"

I glanced over my shoulder at the three men who'd brought me here and saw that they'd moved closer to where we were standing. "He's here to be my shadow while I'm in the city. If I go out, he comes with me to keep an eye on me. Apparently, I tend to get into trouble when I'm on my own."

"You brought your own bodyguard?" he asked, sounding both shocked and pleased. It wasn't something I could have gift wrapped, but I had a feeling I'd just given Ranger a great present.

"He did a good job when I took him on some training exercises, and he proved he can be both effective at catching the bad guys and subtle enough to not get in the way of my fun, so I figured if I needed a shadow, it should at least be someone I knew could do the job well," I explained my decision to bring Cal specifically. Well, maybe it wasn't my decision, but I did agree to it when Tank said I didn't have a choice.

Ranger then looked over my shoulder at the guys behind me. "You volunteered to watch her?"

Cal responded without hesitation. "Absolutely."

"No matter the cost?" Ranger pushed.

I didn't understand why he was pulling the inquisition routine with one of the men he obviously trusted, but my gut told me to stay out of this conversation because even though it involved me, it shouldn't _include_ me.

"My life, Ranger," he said in all seriousness. "I'd give my life."

Then a smile, the size of which I'd not seen in a long time, came over Ranger's face. It was hard to draw in a deep breath when I saw how the expression changed his face. The features that had been hard and dangerous only moments before had transformed into hot and sexy.

"Then you have an appointment at 0500 to teach Bertelli how all RangeMan staff are expected to treat Stephanie," Ranger commanded, the smile providing evidence that he was still enjoying himself. "And since you brought Brown with you, I assume you can teach him thoroughly since you have backup to put him back together," he added.

"Don't hurt him too much," I jumped in, knowing I shouldn't get involved but not able to stand the idea of someone getting hurt because of me.

"No worries, Angel," Cal replied with a grin.

Feeling like I needed to say something that would prove I wasn't trying to interfere too much with how RangeMan disciplined their staff, I added, "Because I plan on going out tomorrow, and you promised to go with me."

That got me a few chuckles, but my eyes stayed on Ranger when I realized he was laughing at my comment.

"Don't worry, Babe. If you still feel up to going out tomorrow, I'll be sure you have sufficient coverage."

Just like that, the rest of the office didn't exist. One mildly suggestive comment, and all I could focus on was the man still holding me against his sculpted hard body. Sometimes, tunnel vision can screw with your depth perception, so I wasn't sure if it was wishful thinking or reality that it felt like Ranger's lips were coming closer to mine.

So when Lester's voice seemed only inches from my ear, practically shouting, "Ranger, damn it, man...at least take her in your office," I wasn't pleased about the interruption, but I couldn't deny that a little privacy sounded like a good idea.

Ranger's arms tightened around me, and he looked past me to the guys behind us. "You all bunking here for the night?"

Bobby answered, "Santos and I are here as long as you need us to be to finish cleaning up. Cal is here until Stephanie leaves."

A nod was all the response that got from the man clinging to me as though I was a prize he'd won and refused to share. Normally that kind of manhandling would cause my bristles to raise, but tonight, it was turning me on. "We'll meet after morning workouts."

"At 0500?" Lester asked with a smirk that was audible.

Ranger surprised me with his reaction because I would have thought he'd get uptight about being questioned in front of the men like that. Instead, he looked at my face and then back to Lester and said, "Better make it 0600."

I heard Lester laugh, but before he had a chance to say anything else, Ranger moved us into the room he'd appeared out of and then slammed the door shut with his boot. After shutting us off from the prying eyes of the rest of the office, we were still, recapturing that feeling of disbelief that the person we most wanted to see was right in front of us.

For once in my life, the silence was comfortable. If anything, I was afraid to speak, out of fear that it would break the spell between us and this totally out-of-character response would turn out to be a dream.

Apparently, he didn't share my fear, because he cleared his voice and then whispered, "You're here."

"Are you upset with me for just showing up?" I asked, thinking I already knew the answer but still feeling the need to clarify that point.

Slowly, his head moved from side to side, indicating the answer was no. "What made you decide to show up?"

I moved my legs, indicating he could set me down, but it only made him tighten his hold on me, so I gave up on being released and responded, "I didn't want to wait until you got back to Trenton to finish our email conversation, and then I realized that sometimes, if you want to show somebody how you feel, words don't speak as loud as actions do."

A sound like a cross between a growl and a grunt came from Ranger's chest before his eyes locked on my lips and he said, "Damn, I love that logic."

And then the time for words was obviously over because nothing else was said. I had no idea who moved first, but our lips ended up pressed together. I wasn't new to the experience of kissing Ranger. It was no secret that my back bore more than one set of scratches from being pressed against the brick wall behind the bonds office while he and I necked as though it were an Olympic sport and we were trying to qualify for gold medals. So the feeling of kissing him now shouldn't have taken my breath away, but it did.

First kisses could never be duplicated, and my lips had been introduced to his on numerous occasions, but this time was different. The tingles were there, as was the moist heat when he opened his lips and gently nudged me to follow suit by tracing my mouth with his tongue. But the burning in my chest and the way my heart wasn't just beating faster but beating with such force I thought it was trying to climb out of my chest and into Ranger's was all new. The way I felt like I was a part of this kiss, not just holding on for dear life but actively exploring his mouth and pulling him to me, was also something I hadn't done before. For the first time ever, I didn't feel like he was kissing me but like we were kissing each other.

We pulled back only long enough to gulp in deep breaths and reverse the angle of our faces before we were connected again, hungrily, nearly forcefully thrusting tongues, grazing teeth, and even occasionally nipping at each other.

As a little girl, my mother lectured me about waiting to find the right boy to give myself to after we were married. She told me to do this to protect my virtue so that I wouldn't go to hell and so that I could get a decent husband. But she also said it was because the things a husband and wife shared were unique because of the love between them. Trying to share the same experience with anyone else wouldn't be the same and would end with tears and heartbreak, no matter how good the moment might have felt. I remembered pushing her for more information, battering her with questions that she refused to answer, and feeling like the subject was closed. At the time, I'd thought it was all a crock of shit. Now, for the first time in my life, I think she might have been onto something. Not with the fires of hell lecture but with the part about love making the experience totally different.

We hadn't had a conversation, we hadn't spelled out any of what we were feeling, but I knew from what he'd said in his last note to me and he knew from my sudden appearance in his office that things were different. Even without a formal understanding, there was no going back to just friends or friends with benefits. Our hearts were involved, and there was no turning that off. I didn't think it would be possible, plus I couldn't imagine _wanting_ to shut it off after feeling how different it made this experience.

The feeling of Ranger under my fingers was the same, and there was comfort in the fact that I knew his body. I knew the dip between his collarbones was the perfect size to rest my thumb in. I knew I could reach around his broad arms and run my fingertips down his spine but not quite reach his waist if I tried to keep my fingers in the middle of his back. I knew that the divot between his collarbone and shoulder on his right side was ticklish, but for some reason, it wasn't on the left side. All of that was reassuring, because even with my eyes shut, I knew who I was with by the feel of him alone.

But the experience of being pressed again that familiar body was unnervingly different. I was afraid I was hurting him because I was gripping him so hard, unwilling or unable to let him go. My hips were rocking against him of their own volition, and even when I tried to make myself stop, the burning between my legs overrode my weak attempt at controlling myself.

The taste of him on my tongue was better than anything my mother or Ella had ever cooked for me. Honestly, why had I never noticed Ranger had a taste before? I couldn't classify him as either salty or sweet, but I knew I had a new favorite thing to crave in my mouth. Of course, thinking that way only let my mind float to other ways of tasting him, which gave me the strength to pull back and say, "Put me down."

"No," he replied, as though I'd just asked if he wanted fries with his dinner. Then he attached his mouth to the skin at the edge of my shirt's collar, close to the juncture of my shoulder and neck. Just before I could demand he do it anyway, his teeth bore down and the suction he generated pulled the skin there into his mouth, no doubt leaving a bright mark visible to anyone would see me for the next two to five days.

"Why?" I was proud of myself for forming any words and hoped he knew I was asking why he refused to put me down.

He did move us so that my back was now flush against the wall. I wasn't sure if this was an improvement or not until I realized it gave him the ability to increase the pressure against my hips. Suddenly, I wasn't as interested in being set down as I was in having him keep pressing that impressive bulge in his cargoes against me. Another minute or two of this, and I'd be witnessing a mental fireworks display still fully clothed.

"Go away!" Ranger growled, causing the fog I'd been in to blow away quickly. Surely he wasn't about to drop me now. My self-esteem wasn't the greatest, but his body had already proven he was enjoying what we were doing.

I didn't have time to second guess myself again before there was a knock at the door.

Ranger rested his forehead against mine, breathing nearly as fast as I was. "What?"

"Sir," a small voice came through the door. "I have that report you asked for."

"Leave it," Ranger replied, his voice much rougher than usual.

"But it has all the information you wanted," he pushed once more. I didn't know who was talking, but I knew he had to be one brave individual to keep pressing when it was obvious Ranger was trying to dismiss him.

Ranger took a slow deep breath and pulled his head back to look me in the eye. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but I have to look at this report. It's time sensitive, and if it's complete, it would help me wrap things up here much more quickly."

I nodded that I understood, and even though I certainly didn't like it, I pulled my legs back and Ranger lowered me to the floor.

"Where are you going to be?" he asked, not letting me go so that I couldn't put any distance between us.

"Les said I could bunk with him if there wasn't an open apartment on four," I teased him.

That rumbling in his chest occurred again at the mention of me spending the night with Santos.

"Cousin or not, if you stay in his bed, he won't live to see the sun rise," Ranger threatened. I elected to believe he was teasing, but there was no smile or softening of his expression to prove that. "Do you have your keys?" he asked, trailing a finger along my hairline and then tucking a curl behind my ear.

"Sure," I replied, knowing they were in my purse somewhere.

"The fob from Haywood will get you in the penthouse here, as well. Go make yourself at home upstairs, and I'll try to get through this as quickly as possible to join you," he said, still not moving away from me.

I waited for a moment before pointing out the obvious. "I can't move until you step back."

He placed a series of soft kisses along my brow and then said, "Fuck it. The report can wait until tomorrow."

I put my hand on his chest to stop him from sweeping me back into his arms. As much as I wanted him to do that – and I _really_ wanted him to do it – my goal in coming to New York wasn't to pull him away from his work and ruin his focus. "What's in the report?"

"If it's complete, it's a full background check on the man I think was paying Manuel to throw accounts here so that he could pick them up, destroying my business and reputation while building his," Ranger answered, surprising me with his candor.

"Why were you so focused on getting the information tonight?" I wondered, figuring despite his focus on getting to the bottom of this, that sounded like something that could have waited another eight hours.

"He's hard to locate, and I hoped to plan a little hunting trip based on the info to capture him when his guard was down. He and I have a history, and it's time for him to realize that he has yet to learn from our run-ins, so each time our paths cross, I have to remind him that he can't win."

I should have been surprised by the hard sound of his voice at the last part, but I knew Ranger well enough to know that whatever history they had must have been bad, and bloody, for him to be so intent on putting an end to this tonight.

I raised my other hand so that I was effectively pushing both palms against his chest, keeping him from moving forward to be as close as he had been. "Get that report, see if it has what you need, and if it does, then you take that son of a bitch down tonight."

Ranger's eyes got huge at my foul language. "Babe?"

I didn't think it was the right time to pick on him for resorting back to the one word communication. "What?" I pretended to be unaware of why he would be surprised. "You didn't think I'd just accept somebody trying to hurt what's mine, did you?"

"So, I'm yours?" Ranger asked with a smirk that told me he was more than happy with that title.

"Just as much as I'm yours," I replied, turning the tables on him.

The smirk shifted to a smile then, and he easily captured my wrists to move my hands off of him, allowing him to move back so that our bodies were touching from toes to lips. "I like the sound of that."

"Sir?" the poor sap in the hall called out, letting us know that while we were about to shift back into our own world, he was still out there holding the requested report.

"I'll be just as much yours in the morning as I am right now," I promised. "Go take care of this so we can concentrate on more pleasant things."

Ranger leaned in and gave me one more kiss, reminding me that what he was promising was a hell of a lot more than just pleasant, and then he walked away and opened the door before either of us lost the ability to pull away. _Tomorrow,_ I told myself, not as disappointed as I figured I would be about the interruption.

We hadn't actually discussed anything, yet I was completely confident in what we were to each other. For once, actions had spoken louder than words, and I was looking forward to us doing a lot more silent communicating.


	11. Pussycats

_JE is responsible for the wonderful characters below. I don't deserve any credit for blatantly stealing what she worked so hard on._

_Jenny (JenRar) thank you for the work you've done as the beta on this story. I don't deserve any credit for the hard work you do proofreading my rambling words either._

**Chapter 11 - Pussycats**

I stayed against the wall, using it to balance against since I wasn't entirely sure my legs could do the trick alone. For all my bravado in pushing Ranger to take care of business now so that we could take care of each other without interruption later, I wasn't as capable of shifting gears as abruptly as he appeared to be.

Ranger opened the door and let in a man who stood perhaps three inches taller than him. He was holding a manila folder and wearing the standard-issue black RangeMan uniform. Strangely, even though his overall size and bulk were greater than Ranger's, he didn't have near the presence of the man himself. There was something tentative about his movements, making it seem like he was second guessing himself before every movement.

"I've got the information you wanted."

The mystery man glanced at me and then quickly cast his gaze back to Ranger, as though he were embarrassed to have been caught stealing a look. That made me smile and threw me back to grade school briefly, only without the bullies trying to take my milk money and without Morelli attempting to finger me in his parents' garage. There is a point at which every analogy breaks down.

"There are two locations here," Ranger said, flipping through the papers with an expression that clearly meant he was confused and didn't appreciate it.

"Intel suggests either are viable options," the unnamed recruit responded.

"I can't attack two locations at once," Ranger pointed out.

"But we have enough men that if we divided the force in half, we could easily attack both locations," the man argued.

"Which would only give me a fifty percent chance of being there to pull the damn trigger myself. I don't accept those odds," Ranger stated, giving me the strength to finally push away from the wall.

I was going to leave these two to argue through the finer points until the guy finally realized that Ranger was going to have this his way, but he saw me attempting to leave undetected and called out my name.

When I turned around, he was holding out the folder with an eyebrow lifted.

"Do you have a work station I can use?" I asked, knowing he wanted me to take a look at the information to see what I could figure out.

"Sir," the young man interrupted, "that's sensitive information from our search programs."

My head jerked up to glare at him, trying to figure out why he was insulting me. I hadn't said anything to him, and I certainly hadn't gotten him injured in any way, so I didn't understand why he was opposed to me seeing data I could easily pull in a matter of moments.

"Babe." Ranger got my attention, and even though his face was blank, I could hear the tension in his voice. "Use my desk."

A tilt of his head told me he meant the large wooden monstrosity behind him, so I began to move that way. "You," Ranger called out to the only other person in the room, "will move that chair to the side of the desk and silently watch everything she does."

I was about to ask why Ranger was giving me a shadow. If he didn't trust me with the information I had access to then he shouldn't have given me my own unlimited login and password.

Before I could work up a head of steam, he finished his command. "Watch how she pulls the information together, and see if you can learn something." Then Ranger took a few measured steps toward the desk and leaned over to keep the full attention of the man now to my left. "And if you ever so much as hint at the idea that she shouldn't be allowed to see something in my office, I'll throw you out myself. Am I clear?"

"Sir, yes sir," he replied more out of habit than sincerity.

I read through the skimpy background someone had already printed out and then began to fill in the multiple gaps in the hope of finding a better location to search. The file was for Hannibal Cruz, who was in his mid-thirties, American born, but seemed to spend as much time in Bolivia as the States. He had a brief military career where he elected not to reenlist after his initial tour of duty. The file the guys here had prepped had come upon his home address and a factory he owned, which were the two spots they were proposing Ranger organize raids to capture Cruz.

While home late at night was always a valid place to consider, it wasn't late enough to have default logic saying he'd be in bed, and the factory only ran a single shift, so it made no sense to assume he'd be there at this time. I was able to get in my zone and ignore the man watching over my shoulder while I dug through a credit history, a newspaper search, and a history of his credit card spending. The credit cards gave me the most to go off of because it showed that every week day evening was spent racking up charges at a bar called The Pussycat Club.

After reading that, I looked up, saw that Ranger was gone, and then turned to the man next to me and said, "There's really a club called The Pussycat Club?"

He grinned before catching himself and failing to drop a blank expression. "Yes, ma'am. It's a strip joint near the docks."

"But the name..." I attempted to point out how tacky and retro it sounded before realizing the kind of person that would enjoy watching women strip wouldn't really be put off by a name that was so obvious in how it advertised what was happening inside.

I leaned to see out the open office door and saw that Ranger was speaking with someone in the hall. Knowing he'd come in when he was done, I turned to the man next to him and stuck out my hand. "I'm Stephanie Plum, by the way."

He seemed confused, and then his eyebrows went up, like I'd surprised him. "You're Bomber?"

"Why does everyone insist on calling me that?" I wondered aloud, still holding out my hand.

He eventually got the message and placed his dark hand in mine. "I'm Leo. It's nice to meet you, ma'am."

I shivered, not from his attempt at manners, but at the idea of someone calling me ma'am. I wasn't ready to feel that old yet. "Just call me Stephanie – or Steph, if you're a nickname kind of person – but please don't call me ma'am."

"I'll try," he replied, letting me know I was asking something difficult of him. "Is it true that you once blew up one of the boss's cars?"

"I was responsible for the vehicle when a crazy person blew it up," I clarified, wondering when that story might go away.

"Where did he send you when that happened?" Leo asked, nodding toward Ranger.

"Send me?" I couldn't understand what he was asking. "He was just relieved I was okay."

That response seemed to be impossible for him to comprehend, and then he sat back and grinned at me. "So you're like his own little pussycat, then, right?"

There are some things that rub me as though someone were exfoliating my skin with a cheese grater, and the way this punk just assumed that I was stripping for the boss as the only logical explanation for why he didn't ship me off to Siberia was one of those things. "Don't you have any home training?" I blurted out to another of his confused stares. "Didn't your mother teach you to filter anything you said? I mean, even if I had been banging the boss – which I wasn't, not that it's any of your business – you certainly don't say anything about it to the woman who has direct access to the man himself."

"I didn't mean to offend you," Leo quickly attempted to placate me.

"Well, what you meant to do and what you actually did are obviously two different things here," I pointed out just as Ranger walked back in the office with his arms crossed over his chest, making his biceps look twice their usual size.

"Do I need to do anything here?" Ranger asked.

"No, I think Leo here understands that the next time he has something chauvinistic and inappropriate to say, he should think first before just blurting it out. And if he doesn't, then I'll tape him to his chair and torture him in front of all the guys."

I'd done that very thing to Brett last year, so Ranger knew exactly what I was talking about. Leo looked clueless, but he wisely kept his mouth shut instead of arguing the point further.

"What do you have, Babe?" he asked, helping me to take my attention off the young guy in front of me and turn it back to a more helpful direction.

I walked him through the rest of the background check that I'd run, ending with my conclusion that I believed he was at the strip joint until at least two or three in the morning. "If you're looking to get him, my suggestion is that you go there now, and if you miss him, I'd go for his home address next." I thought that covered everything, and then I remembered one more thing. "Oh, the charges on his credit card are pretty high dollar and regular, which makes no sense. If they bill his card every time he orders a drink, then he's either buying for more than one person or he's getting some pretty high dollar liquor, which seems strange if you're there to watch women take their clothes off."

Ranger appeared to be holding back a smile at my naivety, but Leo, whose filter had yet to kick in, spoke up. "They may not be drinks. They could be private dances or shows instead."

I shivered at that idea. I knew nothing of Cruz other than his picture, and I already hated him because of the harm he'd done to Ranger. But knowing that he blew through hundreds of dollars every night paying women to take off their clothes in front of him only made me want him off the streets that much more. Some people were too creepy to be allowed to move in general society.

"Are you still going to try to get him tonight?" I asked.

Ranger nodded once and then looked at Leo to say, "Call the team on duty tonight and have them assembled in the conference room in fifteen minutes. Then have someone get me the layout for the club."

"Yes, sir," Leo responded before leaving us at the desk.

"That kid has no social skills," I blurted out.

"But he's got potential," Ranger replied. "He's not motivated, and he can be a little lazy, but if he can snap out of those bad habits, then he could be good."

"I'm sure if anybody can whip him into shape, it's you," I told him, meaning it completely, even though it sounded like a cheesy line.

Ranger came around to my side of the desk and sat down in the large executive chair before taking my hands and bringing me down to sit in his lap. I leaned against him, wondering why he seemed so much more open to public displays of affection here in New York than he'd ever been in Jersey. I melted against him, amazed at how good it felt to be this close and how ten minutes of necking behind closed doors could have changed so many things between us.

"Are you taking Lester and Bobby with you?" I asked, hoping the answer would be yes.

"Probably," he replied, lacing our fingers together and bringing them to his lips. "This place is disjointed. Manuel ran it like boot camp, barking out orders and demanding blind compliance. But he didn't enforce the best practice in everything, so even though they seem regimented, they don't handle take downs efficiently, they're sloppy in their research methods, and they tend to shoot first and ask questions second."

I knew that Ranger wasn't complaining about people getting hurt. It was a fact of life in this business. But if they were just rushing into foolish situations and then shooting their way back out, then he'd have a huge problem. "What can you do to fix it?"

I felt the shoulder I was resting my head on shrug before he answered. "They need to learn to loosen up with some of the strict military feel and tighten up their procedures. But commanding people to stop the robotic following of orders and start thinking on their own is easier said than done. I mean, I recruit former military people for a reason, but this was never my intent of how it should turn out."

"Did you not see this when you came to New York in the past?" I wondered. I didn't mean to criticize, but I'd been here only a few seconds when I thought I was surrounded by some kind of strange Stepford version of RangeMan. Surely Ranger would have noticed it, too.

"I never spent much time one on one with the guys here, other than Manuel. When I came down, it was usually for a specific take down, and then I flew in, handed out orders, and then flew back out, so the fact that they followed my orders completely spoke highly of them. If I'd stuck around more and stayed to hang out with the guys, I'm sure I would have noticed, but the last year or so, I was always in a hurry to get back home." When he said the last part, he nuzzled my neck and took a deep breath.

There was a knock at the door, which caused me to nearly jump off his lap, but Ranger tightened his grip on me and held me in place. "Report," he barked at the kid in the doorway.

"Men are assembled in the conference room, sir."

"Page Santos and Brown from the sixth floor to join us, and let me know when they're down here," Ranger ordered, relaxing his grip on me after the intruder walked away.

"You know that the guys seeing me in your lap like this will make it seem like I'm just here because I'm sleeping with the boss," I informed him, not liking the idea of being thought of as the corporate whore.

"Trust me, if you were sleeping with me, you'd be too tired to argue about what the guys saw," he countered with that egotistical smirk that only seemed to be sexy on him.

I attempted to throw an elbow into his ribs, but he easily stopped the movement and helped me to stand up. We moved together to the door, but he put a hand on my hip, stopping my progress when we approached the exit, and then leaned into my ear to whisper, "Thank you for coming. Knowing you're here makes this easier."

And just like that, I knew I'd do anything possible for this man. Sure, I'd already known it in theory, but knowing that just my presence helped him to sort things out was enough to keep me awake after the hour I usually called it a night.

He pulled me with him to the conference room, and we walked in right behind Les and Bobby. I took a seat at the back, sandwiched between my friends, and watched as Ranger transformed himself from the good-looking flirt he'd been in his office to the sexy badass that was commanding the attention of every eye in this room.

He ran through a brief summary that the man they were going after tonight was Hannibal Cruz, who was a new security businessman that had been paying individuals who had previously been employed in this office to throw accounts so that he could go behind them and pick them up. Mr. Cruz needed to be taught a lesson, and the element of surprise was the best way to begin his instruction. A few grins broke out around the room, making me realize that despite their problems in this office, their desire to go out and cause a little trouble was just like the guys' back home.

Someone produced a schematic of the strip joint where I thought Cruz was hiding, and they began to talk about ways to storm in and grab him.

Santos was the first to pull them back by saying, "If we do that, there will be talk surrounding a shoot out at club, and RangeMan will get the bad press associated with it. We can't just storm in until we have confirmation that he's there."

They talked a little more and came up with a suggestion that they send in a team to pretend to be customers who would search the joint until they found him and then call for back up while securing Cruz.

This time, it was Bobby shaking his head. "You guys have no ability to go under the detection wire, do you? I'll be lucky to have enough medical gear to patch all the holes you're going to pick up with this kind of shitty planning."

Then a familiar voice at the back spoke up, and I turned to see Cal standing in the doorway, arms crossed and eyes narrowed. "You should send in a distraction to confirm Cruz is there and then take him out when he isn't looking for it."

"You mean like start a bar fight and then have somebody nab Cruz when the club security is focused on the brawl?" somebody asked from the front.

Cal shook his head, as though he couldn't believe they didn't understand him, and then he glanced at me and tilted his head to the front. I looked down at my clothes and knew I wasn't wearing anything appropriate for passing myself off as a stripper. I hadn't planned on really working while I was in New York, so even though I had a dress, it wasn't a distraction kind of outfit. I shrugged, not sure I could pull it off.

Unfortunately, while Cal and I were perfecting our skills at ESP, Lester realized what we were debating and said, "Send in Beautiful and have her pose as a waitress or a dancer to get access to the private area. She can either call us to take him once she has a visual, or we could arm her and have her stun him, and then all we have to do is an easy back door extraction."

"Guys..." I felt the need to speak up, reminding them of some key points. "I didn't think to pack a Pussycat outfit for this trip, so I'm not sure I can pass myself off as stripper or waitress. Plus, we don't have time to get me past security."

This time, Leo jumped in. "My girlfriend might be able to help you with the outfit part. She works there part time as a bartender but sometimes waits tables when they need her to."

"Is she at work tonight?" Bobby asked, somehow thinking that since my initial complaint had been canceled out, I would be all for this crazy idea.

"No, she's off tonight, but I was planning on meeting with her later, so I know she's around if you need me to call her," he offered. "Plus, she might be able to get us in past the bouncer undetected."

Then it hit me that when Leo had called me Ranger's personal Pussycat, he might not have meant it as insultingly as it had sounded. He clearly had his own kitty, so the term might not be as derogatory as other people would have intended it.

"Call her," Ranger said from the front, getting the attention back on him. Then he looked at one of the other guys and said, "I need a standard stun gun and one of the miniature versions, along with a small body wire and comm units for the team of twelve."

That was a larger team than I usually worked with, so I wasn't sure if it was because this had the potential for being a much more dangerous distraction or because he wanted to use this as a learning exercise for the guys here.

Leo came back in and reported that his girlfriend would be here in ten minutes with several uniforms for me to try on.

Ranger started barking out orders for us to be ready to roll in forty-five minutes. I glared at him silently and couldn't hide my surprise when he said, "Make that an hour."

Leo's girlfriend, Melissa, was a perfectly wonderful young girl, who clearly wanted to be helpful. She had brought several uniforms in different sizes, which I appreciated more than I could say. While she told me how the club worked, I went about doing something to my hair and couldn't believe it was cooperating. By the time I'd finished pulling myself together and picking out some lingerie that I thought would work with the uniform, she had an outfit laid out for me to slip into. She helped me to smooth out the skirt and then straightened out the metal chains that loosely connected the skirt to the tube top at my breasts. Of course, my bra had to go, and even though I saw that the top was lined, I was still worried about not having that extra layer of coverage.

When Melissa pointed to the boots, I realized that was one part of the outfit that I wouldn't mind wearing. The heels were only two inches high, and the top of the white leather went three inches above my knee. They were broken in and well worn so that they were misleadingly comfortable.

"Okay, so a few last minute tips," Melissa started talking quickly, as though she was determined to cover any circumstance I might encounter. "Don't bend over to pick anything up. The skirt will ride up, and tugging at it will only encourage the customers to come onto you. There are runners on shift who are dressed a little more conservatively, and they will clean up things dropped on the floor. Don't stop moving for more than five seconds, even if you're delivering drinks or taking an order. If you stop, the guys assume you want to be touched, and they're faster than they look for a bunch of old, drunk guys. As far as strip clubs go, this place is on the classier side. At least we appeal to a higher caliber of customer. So the manger doesn't like us to swear or hurt the clients. There are bouncers everywhere to keep the peace, so if you have any trouble, all you have to do is get the attention of one of them and motion them over. Patrons are thrown out based on our word, not that of a customer, so you won't have any trouble getting someone to help you if there's a problem."

I began to wonder how she'd learned all this and how she could be so calm discussing it. Then I remembered that what we consider normal is all relative to what we do. She might be equally panicked if I told her how to pick up on the signs that her vehicle was about to explode from a car bomb, and I rarely got all that worked up over it anymore. Realizing how pathetic that comment was forced me to keep my mouth shut and just nod at what she was telling me.

A knock at the door alerted me that my time to primp was over, so I stepped up, put a hand on my hip, and swaggered to the door to open it.

Melissa was grinning when I turned my head to look at her. "You're going to fit right in and probably have the boss begging you to come back as a regular if you can pull that attitude off when people are watching."

Knowing that I'd accomplished what I was trying to gave me a little more confidence, so I pulled the door opened quickly and then attempted to raise a single eyebrow when Ranger just stood there looking me over.

Lester walked by at the same time and stopped in his tracks to saunter over and wag his eyebrows. "Hey, Beautiful. You need some help finding a good place to hide your mic?"

Ranger growled, causing Les to back up and raise his hands. "I was just trying to be helpful. You know I'm an electronic genius. You used to recognize my skills instead of getting all scowly because of them."

"Scowly?" Ranger questioned, saying it as though it wasn't a word.

"You know," Lester attempted to explain. "Your face has a scowl, and you were getting growly, so I combined the two into one descriptive."

"Don't you have a comm center to set up in the van?" Ranger asked.

Melissa excused herself, picking up on the fact that the good looking man at the door was going to want to plant the microphone himself.

"You ready, Babe?" he asked, looking me over in a way that made me think he totally approved of the costume.

"Especially the boots," he said, catching me off guard. "I definitely approve of the outfit when it's combined with those boots."

I guessed my mouth's filter had taken the rest of the night off.

I flattened my palm against my completely bare midsection and ran it up and across my ribs. His eyes were glued on every movement I made, and I found myself grinning at how easy it was to control the man who was usually so unflappable. He grinned at me and stalked forward, holding up the tiny wire I knew needed to be hidden between my breasts.

Ranger looked down my top and, if possible, his grin only grew. "No bra to hide the wire in," he pointed out the obvious.

I could see he was enjoying this a bit too much, so my mouth opened without me thinking through the possible side effect of teasing him. "There's no bra to slow us down tonight when you take this uniform off of me."

There was a fraction of a second of surprise on his face before I felt the warmth of his hand as he moved between my breasts and expertly taped the microphone just under the curve on the left side. I'm sure there was a professional reason for him to then massage the entire breast and softly tease the aching nipple, as well. Then he leaned in to whisper in my ear, "I'll take the uniform off of you, but when I take you tonight, it will be with you still in those boots."

I made a moaning sound, and then Ranger softly laughed before touching his throat to say, "Negative. The microphone works fine."

I knew his mic only picked up his voice if he activated it with a touch, but mine would pick up any sound, no matter how soft, which meant the guys listening to the feed in the van probably heard a less than ladylike noise come from me and automatically assumed the mic wasn't picking up correctly.

"You'll pay for that," I threatened, hoping he understood that I didn't appreciate him letting the guys know he had caused me to make that sound.

"I look forward to it," he promised in return, placing his hand at the small of my back and guiding me out to make our way downstairs to join the guys in the garage.

I got a couple of whistles which I knew belonged to Cal and Lester, so I moved to stand between them while Ranger went over the plan once more. "Why are you coming with us?" I asked Cal, not meaning to be insulting but figuring there were more than enough people for coverage and he was probably tired from the long day.

"I promised that if you left the building, I'd be your shadow, and I intend to keep that promise," he told me in such a matter-of-fact tone that I couldn't doubt him at all.

When Ranger called for us to fall out, I put a hand on Cal to stop him and said, "Thanks. I feel better knowing you're watching my back."

"With my life, Angel," he assured me, repeating the promise he'd made to Ranger.

I didn't figure this particular operation would be that dangerous, and I had no intention of letting Cal actually trade his life for mine if a situation like that ever arose, but it was nice to know he took his job that seriously. Knowing the way my luck tended to work, having somebody that committed to keeping me safe was probably a very good thing.

I climbed in a waiting SUV with Melissa and Leo in the front and Cal and Ranger sandwiching me in the back.

"I've already talked to Rocky, the bouncer, and he'll let you in. He's told the other guys on tonight that there's a new girl coming in to work the main floor and the private rooms. Since you're a stranger but you're in the uniform, they'll all assume you're the new girl without question," Melissa told me. "If you act like you belong, everyone else will assume it's true."

Ranger then handed a picture of Cruz up to Melissa and asked if she recognized him. "Oh, yeah, he comes in every night, has a couple of drinks, and then disappears into a room at the back – the secure room at the back."

"What do you mean secure room?" Ranger asked, probably wondering why we hadn't seen a room marked like that on the schematic earlier.

"It's at the rear, past all the private rooms. Usually guys go back there and have a long, private dance that includes a lot more than dancing. I don't do that kind of thing, so I've never even been in the room, but I hear from the girls that do go back there that he's rough and likes his girls to be afraid of him." Then she looked at me. "If this is who you're after, then you need to be extra careful. He keeps two guys at his door so that nobody can get in, and I'm pretty sure there's soundproofing on the walls so you can't just scream for help."

I looked at Ranger, who had slipped completely into his all-business mode. As much as the final pieces of intel from Melissa made me want to run the other direction, I knew this had to be done, and the sooner it was completed the better, so I bumped my elbow into Ranger's arm and said, "I can handle Cruz if you can have a team disarm the two guys at the door."

I knew that was a simple task that would go to the guys from Trenton, not to someone from the New York office. And as much as I wanted the staff from New York to feel like they were a part of this take down, I trusted my Merry Men, so knowing they had my back allowed me to front a lot more confidence than I really felt.

We stopped two blocks from The Pussycat Club and ran through the plan once more. I'd go in with Melissa getting me through the bouncer at the front door. She'd get me a waitress tray and point me in the right direction. After waiting a few tables, I'd work my way to the secure room and try to talk my way in as the woman Cruz had ordered for the evening. Once we were alone, I'd stun him and call the boys to pick him up, hauling him out the back door, over the bodies of his no doubt unconscious guards. The plan was actually simpler than most of my distractions, since I was going to him and I didn't have to convince him to follow me anywhere. Hopefully, I could get through this quickly and without saying anything embarrassing.

After all, the easier the plan, the less likely it was that something would go wrong.

Right?


	12. Watch and Learn

_JE created the characters below. I feel the need to give her credit, even though she never lets them behave the way I want them to._

_Jenny (JenRar) thank you so much for your hard work as the beta on this story._

**Chapter 12 – Watch and Learn**

I managed to walk in the Pussycat Club looking a lot more confident than I felt. The first thing I noticed was the waitresses all appeared to be in constant motion. They would set the drink down while continuing to walk around the table. The men all seemed used to this. The few times I noticed one of them stop moving, they were quickly pinched, fondled, and in one poor drunk man's case, blatantly felt up. He was quickly tossed out by one of the bouncers wearing tan pants and a white t-shirt with the Pussycat logo on the chest. It wasn't the manliest of shirts, but when you were as bulky as these guys were, I don't think you needed your clothes to advertise your ferocity.

Melissa handed me a tray and asked, "Are you sure you're okay doing this?"

I nodded that I was, and she glanced at the bartender. "I'm going to hang out behind the bar for a little while just to be sure you're okay. Once I see that you've got the swing of things, I'll head back outside."

"Thanks for your help," I replied, feeling every word.

I allowed her to tie something around my waist that I thought was supposed to be an apron but was only big enough to hold a pen and a pad of paper. I looked at it and realized I didn't really need a pad of paper, but I did need a clever place to hide my second stun gun, so I tucked one in there and put the other at my back inside the waist of my skirt.

Then I turned and put as much swing in my hip as I dared without risking making this short excuse for a skirt ride up any more than it already had. The first table I walked to, I started talking just as I hit the man's peripheral vision and asked if I could get him a drink. He wanted a whiskey sour, which I strutted off to get. Once I'd successfully delivered that one and gotten a hefty tip in the process, I figured I should try a few more tables just to be sure I was seen as a waitress before I started walking down the back hall.

I did make the mistake of stopping briefly while a customer fiddled with his wallet. When I stood still, the hand that had struggled to pull out any money from his wallet had no trouble finding my ass. I brought the tray in my hands down rather hard on his wrist, and when he looked up at me, I said, "Next time, I'll leave your hand alone and aim for your crotch."

He pulled his hands away quickly and then placed a fifty on the tray, encouraging me to keep the change. I winked at him and strutted away. Satisfied that the other girls and bouncers were no longer watching me suspiciously, I looked at Melissa, who was now busy behind the bar, and then made my way down the hall.

A man came out of one of the first rooms I passed and said, "Oh good, you're here." He took me by the arm and began hauling me down the hall to the room I wanted access to anyway.

I was on edge because experience had taught me that my luck was never this good and if getting in to see Cruz was this simple, then I worried about how hard it was going to be to stun him. His guards split to give us access when we approached the door, and the man holding me did a syncopated knock before opening the door.

"Mr. Cruz, as promised, I've brought you something new to tempt you this evening."

Neither of them seemed to look past my uniform and make it up to my face before the door was closed, and if the sound I thought I could hear over the music was right, we were now locked in together.

"There is no need to worry," Cruz said as he approached me wearing a pair of loose linen pants and no shirt. "I have guards at the door to ensure that we are not disrupted for any reason. So feel free to make all the noise you'd like for this to fulfill your fantasy, and I'll do whatever I can to be sure that you get the whole experience."

"And what experience is that?" I wondered just what I'd gotten myself into.

"I was told Joaquin was bringing me someone very inexperienced that had a dream of being overpowered and taken, and that is exactly the kind of night I'm ready to have," he explained.

Now, I knew I'd had a sheltered life growing up in a Catholic family in the 'Burg, but I wasn't so protected from the world that I didn't realize there were people out there with all kinds of sexual kinks. I'd heard of women who liked to have a man overtake them as they fought against it, a kind of twisted sex play that gave a man advance permission to rape them, but I was definitely not one of those women. The fact that Cruz seemed so intent on being one of those men meant that he wasn't really paying attention to me. He was probably too busy planning out his attack.

I used his slight distraction to put my hands behind me and pull out the slim-line stun gun I'd gotten. I knew it was charged and on, so all I had to do was get it to Cruz's body and hit the button. It was small enough I could keep it reasonably hidden in my hand, especially since my palms were the last thing Cruz seemed to be interested in staring at.

"And just to be sure the night is an authentic experience for us both, I've asked my colleague Juan to join us."

At this announcement, a man who was roughly the size of Tank walked out from behind a curtain and stood there glaring at me.

"Why do we need him?" I wondered, hoping that just because this stun gun was small, it didn't mean that it was weak. It was going to take a hell of a lot of volts to bring down someone that big.

"He'll stand to the side, but just in case you are more feisty than most, he is here to be sure I win in the end, in order to give you what you want," Cruz explained, absolutely glowing at the thought of having someone hold me down so that he could pound into me.

"So you need him here for an audience?" I asked, wishing I could separate them enough to take down one at the time.

"No, but you are not a small wisp of a woman, and I have to be sure that after all the money I've paid, I end up with exactly what I asked for," Cruz explained.

There are many motivations people undoubtedly pull from in life. Many people perform to the highest standard to make their families proud, while others do things beyond their normal scope of possibility because of a need to help others. I know many of the guys have even credited adrenaline for them being able to pull off actions that were superhuman in my eyes. But hearing Cruz basically tell me I was fat was all it took for me to understand why Lula flew off the handle every time a remark was made about her weight.

"Did you seriously just call me fat?" I blurted out, surprising both of the men in front of me. I figured it was either a monumental mistake or brilliant strategy to upset them. And since I was a fool-hearted optimist, I was going with the idea that pulling them into an unexpected emotion would make them react, which could give me an advantage.

"I said no such thing, but you must admit that uniform is a little tighter on you than many of the women out there," he replied, narrowing his eyes as though trying to tell if this was part of the role I was playing.

"You said you wanted a challenge, and so did I. However, I was expecting it to be a physical fight, not a petty verbal sparring," I threw out, hoping to make him move and come to me. It was far enough away from Juan, the big man standing beside him, that I might be able to stun Cruz and then rearm myself to take down the mountain man, as well.

"Then you shall have what you want," Cruz replied coolly, making me realize I'd managed to make my plan backfire on me. A simple head nod had Juan approaching me instead of Cruz.

I tapped down the initial panic at the idea of having to grapple with the big man first but then realized it didn't really matter since they both had to go down before I could get on with my evening. I waited until Juan was inches away, and then I let my right hand fly out. I touched the stun gun to his arm and hit the juice button, happy to see that brief second of recognition fly across his face before he hit the ground with a rattling thud.

A tisking sound brought my attention back over to Cruz. "Foolish girl," he admonished, moving over to the bed at the wall. "The agreement was that you came in unarmed to fight with just me. Now you have given away your advantage by taking out my guard, which means I have to disarm you before our real fun can begin."

"I don't know about you, but I thought bringing him down was real fun." I figured I had nothing to lose by taunting him, and maybe I could buy enough time for the guys to disable his door guards and then storm this room, too. Surely by now, Ranger had already called them in.

And then came the moment when I realized I was screwed. Instead of charging me so that I could attempt to knock him out, Cruz merely bent over and pulled out a gun with a long nose that looked an awful lot like the silencers they used in movies. It was pointed in my direction when he announced, "Let's put the little stun toy down before you have to get hurt any worse than you already are."

I followed his direction immediately, dropping the stun gun without bending over. "Why does your gun have such a long barrel?" I asked, hoping that would be enough of a clue to tell the guys to hurry the hell up before I got shot.

He laughed out loud before saying, "Why don't you come right over here and I'll show you just how long my barrel is?"

Did he intend that to sound cheesy and like a line from a bad porno movie? Still, I figured since he had the bigger gun at the moment, that afforded him the right to tell me what to do. I walked toward him, forcing my legs to move even though they seemed to think the wiser course of action would be to stay stationary while knocking together in fear.

I was only four feet from him when he reached out and grabbed my arm. I always hated it when skips did that. Didn't they realize that hurt and left bruises that were difficult to cover up with makeup? I had to take enough time getting my face made up in the morning; I didn't have time to mess with concealer on my biceps, too.

Figuring he wasn't the kind of guy to care about my morning rituals, I didn't see the point in mentioning it to him.

"You will strip now," he commanded, still clinging to my arm.

"You'll need to let go if you want this to be very entertaining," I suggested, glaring at the red skin I could see around his fingers.

"It will be entertaining because you'll do what you're told," he argued, clearly not willing to let me go, but he moved the gun to rest on his leg instead of keeping it pointed to my chest. It might be just a small degree better, but I was in a precarious enough situation that any improvement was a victory to be celebrated.

I turned around as much as possible with my arm still captive and then said, "Can you untie my apron?"

"Certainly," he responded, as though I'd asked him to pour me a cup of tea. Where did these sick guys come from?

As soon as I felt the tie release, I grabbed the larger stun gun from my pocket, double checked that it was still on, and then turned back around quickly, smacking him in the chest with it and hitting the button. Unfortunately, my sudden movement caused him to suspect I was up to something, so he raised his gun prepared to fire. My guess is that for once, my reflexes were faster, and I got my charge off a fraction of a second before he pulled the trigger. Of course, my ability to work out the math of the time split was impeded by the door to our room crashing open.

The cavalry had arrived.

I felt a tingling in my arm and a stinging in my thigh, but Cruz fell backward on the bed and I was still standing, so I took that as a good sign for how the night was ending.

Cal and Ranger came to my side with equal speed, demanding to know if I was all right.

"I'm fine," I told them, barely able to move from how closely they were standing beside me.

"You got in so fast that we hadn't started moving," Cal explained the delay in their dramatic entry.

"It's all right," I assured him. "I mean, everything ended okay, and that's what really matters."

"Move!" Bobby practically barked at the men flanking me. "There's blood on her boot, and I need to know where it came from."

As soon as he said that, I looked down and immediately felt the stinging intensify in my upper thigh, where blood was slowly making its way down to the top of my boot above my knee. "Oh hell," I exclaimed when I saw it. "Melissa will never trust me with her clothes again." I knew it didn't make sense, but my mind didn't want to believe I had a bullet hole, so the first thing that hit my mind was what came out.

The guys from New York were in the room and were securing Juan and Cruz, none too gently. By the time they were out the back door, it was just the Trenton crew along with Leo and Melissa.

"Honey, you certainly handled yourself well," she assured me as Bobby poked the sore spot on my leg. "If you ever need to do a sting here, feel free to take my place on the floor anytime."

I felt like she was just talking to keep me distracted, which I appreciated more than I could say since, even though Bobby was being gentle, it still hurt every time he touched me. I began to tell her about some of my other distractions gone wrong, and we laughed together. Then for no reason other than my gut told me it was the right thing to do, I asked, "Do you think you might want to try running a distraction some time? I mean, tonight wasn't standard, and I know the New York office could use someone to help them round up skips from time to time."

Leo attempted to jump in, but Melissa shot him a look that immediately shut his lips. "I think I would, but I'd want to see one that was a little more standard before I agreed."

That was a smart move – so much so that I wondered why I hadn't said something like when RangeMan first asked me to do a distraction. Then I remembered that Ranger had asked by saying he needed my help, and after that opening, I'd been a goner, agreeing to do anything he'd have come up with.

"Anything?" Ranger asked from beside me. "If I'd known that, I would have let the skip go and applied a little more personal pressure."

"Be careful," I warned him, looking at my right hand. "This thing still has a charge in it."

He grinned, as though he knew I'd never hurt him, but I couldn't help but notice that he smoothly removed it from my hand at the same time.

Bobby took that moment to stand up and announce, "It was a deep graze, so the bullet isn't in there, but I think it will heal better if you let me put a few stitches in it."

"Are you sure a band-aid won't do the trick?" I asked, wishing just once I could convince him to see things my way.

"You wouldn't bleed out because of a band-aid, but it will be much more painful, bleed a lot more, and probably have a large scar if you don't go the stitches route," Bobby countered, proving why he never lost our battle of wills.

"Fine, but can we get out of here to do it?" I asked with a sigh. "This place gives me the creeps."

"Sure thing. I can do it in the van," Bobby agreed, packing up the few things he'd pulled out of his bag. "Are you okay to walk?"

Before I had a chance to lie and act like the little flesh wound was no big deal, I felt my legs being pulled out from under me, and then I was face to face with Ranger, who had taken it upon himself to carry me out the back door.

"I'm sorry about getting blood on your boots," I called out to Melissa as she exited with us.

"Oh, that's fine," she replied, as though her clothes had been covered in worse. "Those belonged to my ex-roommate, who stiffed me a couple months of rent. She was always a bitch anyway, so it serves her right if she ever comes back to claim them."

I laughed and realized it was a pity we didn't live in the same town because I could definitely grow to like Melissa.

"I could like you, too," she assured me.

That response made me look at Bobby and ask, "Did you give me any drugs?"

"No... Is the pain getting worse?" He was in full medic mode.

"The pain is fine, but my mouth won't stop moving," I explained, getting a smile out of everyone.

Bobby got me stitched up quickly in the back of the communications van and then announced I was as good as new. I thanked him and allowed him to help me down so that I could ride back to the office in the Explorer I'd come in.

Ranger pulled me tightly to his side, eliminating any distance between us and holding me as though he needed the contact to be sure I was all right.

"I'm okay," I promised.

"I know that. It's just a lot to take in," he replied quietly.

"I've been shot much worse than this," I reminded him, pointing down to my thigh.

"True," he agreed. "But seven hours ago, I was pissed in my office because I wanted to see you and felt trapped here so that the talk we obviously needed to have was going to have to wait. Then you showed up, almost like you fell out of thin air. You set my world into orbit, and then you helped me track down the man that I needed to capture for nearly ruining my business here. Now you've gotten shot at trying to singlehandedly bring him in for me. It's a lot to adjust to."

When he put it like that, I could completely understand what he meant.

Minutes later, I could tell we were getting close to the office, because things were starting to look familiar. "What are you going to do with Cruz now?"

"I'd planned on trying to get some information out of him tonight, but now I'm not so sure I want to do that," he replied cryptically.

"Why not?" I wondered. If he wasn't going to do something to Cruz, then I was confused about why I'd just risked my life to help capture him tonight.

"Oh, I'm going to lean on him some tonight, but I think it would be more effective if I threatened him and then left him alone for a while to worry over what I was planning. I can finish up whatever seems right tomorrow or the day after," he offered, giving me more information about what he was going to do than he'd ever shared with me before.

I decided to return the favor and said, "When we get back, you do whatever you need to do. I'm going to head up to seven and take a shower, and then I'm going to climb into your bed. I'm assuming it has the same silky sheets that Haywood has, but I'm exhausted enough all of sudden that I think I'd fall asleep on sandpaper without complaining right now."

"So when I finish tonight, you'll be in my bed," he prompted eagerly.

"Yes," I promised, smiling when he made a strangled moaning sound. "Unless you'd rather me take Les up on his offer of Santos-style hospitality."

The rumbling turned into a noticeable growl, causing Cal to look our way. "My stand hasn't changed on that. If you spend the night with Santos, he'll never see another sunrise." His hand resting higher on my neck kept my head in place for him to bend down and whisper in my ear, "My woman stays in my bed."

"We've only been together a matter of hours and already you're being bossy," I teased, hoping he would hear the humor in my voice.

"I don't want to control your life, but if we're going to do this, then it's going to be done right. And no other man is ever going to have the pleasure of holding you in his arms all night long," he explained, somehow managing to make caveman sound sexy.

"All right, but just so you know, if you make me sleep in your bed, it's going to cost you one of your shirts, because I didn't bring any pajamas," I taunted.

"If I say no, does that mean you'll spend the night _naked_ in my bed?" He sounded like a kid afraid to believe his wildest dream was right in front of him.

"No, I've got some flannel pants and a high neck shirt I can wear to be sure everything is covered up."

I struggled to keep from laughing when he quickly interrupted, "Take the shirt – anything to keep you out of the full body flannel."

When we got to the office, I made my way to the elevator and only had to insist three times that I was perfectly capable of getting myself upstairs.

Of course, by the time the elevator opened and I stepped out on seven, I began to wonder if I should have taken one of the guys up on their offer. After a brief pep talk to keep it together while I was still under the watchful gaze of surveillance cameras, I got myself in the apartment door and dropped my keys in the silver dish that I instinctively knew would be on a small table near the entrance.

Ranger's apartment here wasn't exactly the same as the one in Haywood, but it was similar enough that there was no mistaking who lived here. I did notice that there were some pictures on a hutch in the dining room. One was of Ranger and Julie together, and another was of a group of men in fatigues, hot and sweaty on a beach somewhere, with smiles big enough you'd think they just singlehandedly saved the world. Of course, knowing some of the guys in that picture, it was entirely possible that they had. I was surprised when I saw two of the frames held pictures of me. I didn't remember either of them, but the outfits were familiar enough that I knew no one had tried to have fun with Photoshop at my expense.

Despite him saying he was here less than any of his other offices, I couldn't help but notice it had a slightly homier feel to it.

I would have spent more time snooping, but my refusal of drugs from Bobby was making my leg throb, so I decided to go ahead and get clean while I was still able to do it unassisted. Lady luck was smiling down on me when I got to the bathroom and realized the shower had Bvlgari shower gel. The distraction of that wonderful smell bought me all the time I needed to get clean, including washing my hair.

After getting dried off, I wrapped up in a towel and went in search of a t-shirt to sleep in. I found one in the top right drawer, the exact same place they were in Haywood. Then, just for kicks, I opened the small drawer in the top center of the dresser and found a single pair of silk boxers. It was like being in some kind of sound stage, where the director had tried to recreate the original apartment with as many identical details as possible.

I put the t-shirt up to my face and drew in a deep breath, loving that it bore a hint of Ranger's unique smell, even though it was freshly laundered. After slipping the shirt over my head, I pulled the towel free and then hung it up before limping back to the bed and collapsing on the far side of the bed that I always thought of as mine.

The sheets were just as heavenly here as they were in Trenton, so I snuggled down, finding myself surrounded by comfort and drifting off to sleep right away. I wanted to stay awake and wait for Ranger, just to be sure that everything had gone all right with Cruz downstairs, but between the stress of the evening and my growing exhaustion over the last couple of weeks, I found sleep impossible to resist.

The next time I woke up, the sun was streaming through the windows, and I realized one major difference between New York and New Jersey was that the sun shined much brighter here. Then I heard a noise at the door and rolled over to see Ranger, his hips covered in only a towel and his face showing a full-throttle smile.

Any doubts that I might have harbored about yesterday being a dream or the possibility that, in the light of day, Ranger might regret the enthusiastic greeting he gave me were blown away with that smile.

"What's got you so happy?" I asked out loud.

"My woman is in my bed, wearing my shirt," he replied so quickly I couldn't doubt his sincerity. "I'm thinking happy is putting it mildly. Why are you so happy?" When he turned the question on me, it made me smile.

"I'm sleeping in the bed of my man, wearing his shirt, after bathing in his shower gel, and I wasn't forced to get up early so I could work out," I said, trying to return his sincerity. "I'm thinking happy doesn't even touch the surface of what I am."

We each stayed in our current places, with me stretched out in the bed and Ranger leaning against the doorframe, just looking at each other. I didn't know he felt, but I was convinced it was going to take some getting used to the idea that we were officially together. I didn't feel the need to push a conversation because I was never all that good at spelling out commitments, but just the way we'd worded it then was good enough for me.

"What do you have on your docket today?" I asked, still sounding sleepy, despite getting a full eight hours of rest.

"I've got to pay Cruz another visit downstairs, and then there are some guys I need to talk to personally to gauge their commitment to this organization. After that, there's a good bit of paperwork to settle that hasn't been well maintained in a while. And then later in the day, I have a contract renegotiation that I expect to take all afternoon into the late hours of the night." As he said the last part, his grin morphed into a hungry expression. "What's on your plate for today?"

"I'm going to take it easy for what's left of the morning, and then I'm going to check in with Bobby and Les to see if there's anything I can do to help them. If not, I'm probably going to run some searches here to help out because I've got this really demanding boss. And I believe later this afternoon and well into the evening, I'm going to be engaged in contract renegotiations with this tyrant I've been doing some training for." It was fun to tease Ranger, even though I rarely won.

"You should sleep some more," he suggested.

I glanced at the clock and did the math again just to be sure I wasn't wrong about how long I'd been out. "Why? I got nearly eight and a half hours of rest last night."

"That was for last night," he pointed out before take a step closer to the bed. "You need to store up some rest so that you have all the energy you need for tonight."

"Tonight?" I squeaked out as a question. "What's going to happen tonight?"

"I'm a tough and very thorough negotiator, Babe," he warned me. "You need to be sure you can keep up."

Without waiting for a response, he slipped into the closet, leaving me wondering if it were possible for a body to melt into a mattress. That thought reminded me how comfortable this particular mattress was, and then I shut my eyes to just live in the joy of this moment.

I couldn't predict the future, but for once in my life, the present was so damn good, I wasn't worried about what would come next.


	13. Coming Clean

_I am using the characters from JE's creation below._

_Jenny (JenRar) I am also using your superior beta skills on this story. _

**Chapter 13 – Coming Clean**

It took me a while to find Bobby, even though the infirmary was in the same place in New York as it was in the Haywood office. He was helping the local medic, a young guy named Needle, cart up newly ordered supplies. When I'd asked if they'd needed any help, Bobby had grinned in a way that told me I was going to quickly come to regret my offer of assistance. Apparently, Needle was a new hire at Bobby's suggestion for the office. They'd worked together a few times when Bobby had been activated for missions, and when Ranger fired the former medic for his part in the Manuel/Cruz mess, Needle had been more than happy to step into the role.

Unfortunately, little work had been done in the infirmary in quite some time, so Bobby was cleaning out all the old supplies, disinfecting all the cabinets, and then restocking them with the new products and equipment we'd brought on the jet when we flew from Trenton. While they were busy carrying the boxes up and down the stairs, I was on my hands and knees with a bucket of soapy water, scrubbing the cabinets on the inside. I'd told Bobby I'd do anything he needed, so I couldn't exactly back out now. But I had learned why Tank was always telling me to wait to hear the duties before volunteering to help. I'd use the chips in my fingernails as a reminder of this lesson learned.

I'd lost track of time with my head inside the bottom cabinets and my ass up the air. It wasn't my most dignified position ever, but I figured I was alone, so it didn't really matter.

"Damn, Beautiful, you make a man wish he could rewrite history."

I banged my head when he started talking, so I backed up out the cabinet and sat back on my heels to rub my head and ask, "Why do you want to rewrite history?"

"So that I could have met you first and claimed you for my own. The image of you bent over like that is going to play a starring role in my future—"

Before Les could finish his thought, Cal came in and smacked him on the back of his head.

Bobby walked in right behind Cal and found Les and me rubbing our heads. "What happened here?"

"Steph hit her head in the cabinet, and Les hit his on his own stupidity," Cal explained.

Bobby tilted his head, as though considering that thought, and then nodded that it made perfect sense to him. Then he switched gears and began barking out instructions on where everything should be. Apparently, Bobby had always said that the medical suites at all the RangeMan offices should be set up exactly the same way so that regardless of where you were, you could find whatever you needed. The previous medical guy had completely disregarded that instruction, so Bobby and Needle were going to spend the afternoon setting the suite up correctly.

By the time I was released from my work, it was nearly four o'clock, and even though I was glad to feel like my assistance had been a big help, I was happy to be leaving, too. On a whim, I went up to five to see if Ranger was around and to see if there was a workstation I could use to run some searches.

The door to the corner office he'd worked in last night was cracked but not fully open, so I walked up to it and knocked.

"Enter," came his voice, sounding tired and strained.

I pushed the door open and came in ready to pick on him for the one word command. I saw he had someone in the office with him already, so I tried to just wave and apologize for interrupting his meeting.

"No..." He stopped me before I could excuse myself and retreat. Then he made a motion with his hand, inviting me to come in, so I complied, moving to stand next to him as he continued to indicate that I should get closer. Once I'd stopped walking, not sure why he wanted me so close during a meeting, he took my hand in his and pulled me down to sit in his lap.

I was shocked but tried not to show it, as I was sure if Ranger was engaging in a public display of affection that there was a well thought-out reason for it. After I stopped moving in his lap, he hooked his arms around me to hold me tighter against him and then said, "Babe, this is Edward Ness. I have just offered him the job as the New York office Director."

"Hi, Edward," I replied, unable to shake hands because of how tightly Ranger was holding me to him. "I'm Stephanie."

"We all call him Touchy," Ranger added as the man in front of us nodded at my attempt to introduce myself.

That was an unusual nickname, so I couldn't stop myself from asking about it. "Why Touchy? Are you an unusually-sensitive tough guy?"

That caused both of the men in the office to laugh. "No, ma'am, I'm not unusually sensitive," he replied. "When I was introduced to everyone in Ranger school, the instructor said my name was Edward Ness, and some idiot in my class got confused and thought I shared the name Elliot Ness from the movie _The Untouchables_. The instructor heard that and quickly announced that over the next few weeks, he would show us that our miniscule skills would be put to the test to prove to us that we were far from untouchable. Then he told everyone that as far as he was concerned, my name didn't matter because I would going to be touched at every opportunity to knock me down. The guys started referring to me as Touchy, and even though it made no sense, it stuck. Since I was usually the youngest grunt in all the missions I ran, I was always introduced by my superior officer as Touchy, so I never had time to ditch the nickname."

"Why not get rid of it now?" I wondered. "I mean, you are the boss here."

He grinned at my suggestion. "Along the way, I kind of got used to it, and to tell you the truth, I like it better than Edward, so it works. Besides, saying I'm named after Elliot Ness isn't that bad of connection – he did help to bring down Al Capone."

I thought back over all the nicknames I'd heard over the years and agreed – it could have been much worse. "It beats Binkie, I suppose."

That earned me more laughter and gave me the chance to relax against Ranger. I figured if he'd pulled me into his lap, there must have been a reason, and I wasn't going to pass up the chance to enjoy this feeling while I was waiting for him to confess what was really going on.

I waited as they spoke about a few of the guys that remained in the office, basically trying to come up with the right composition for a leadership team here similar to what he had in Trenton and Miami. The leadership teams in the branch offices were made up of four people: a director, a second-in-command, a medic, and a field operations coordinator. Touchy thought that Leo would be a good fit in the team, and even though Ranger liked the kid, he wasn't sure he was ready for that level of responsibility yet.

I tried to picture it, based on how hesitant he'd been yesterday. Once I stopped judging him as not acting like any of the guys from Trenton, I saw that he wasn't exactly hesitant; he was scanning Ranger for any kind of reaction, almost as though he was afraid to let him down. He had a sense of humor, if his Pussycat comment was anything to go off of. And when it came time to come up with a plan, he had a connection to get us in the door of the club safely. When I thought of him filling the role of Lester, I could see it. Then I remembered the search I'd seen that had been poorly completed.

"Who ran the search on Cruz that we used last night?" I blurted out, interrupting their conversation.

Ranger looked at Touchy, making it obvious he was meant to respond.

"Leo might have, but I think it was given to one of the tech guys who run most all of our searches, and then it went to him once it was finished."

"If you want him on the leadership team, he'll need to learn how to read a search better. Time was wasted last night because Ranger was ready to move out but he only had part of the story. If we'd acted on the information he was given, it would have been a waste of time, and we would given away our intent, which would have allowed Cruz to tighten his security and possibly evade any future attempts to bring him in," I explained, knowing I was a little biased about the importance of a well-run background check because I seemed to perform so many of them.

"That's a good idea," Ranger jumped in. "Why don't we set up some time tomorrow for you to work with Leo on the technical side and see how he responds? If he seems to pick it up quickly, then it might make sense to include him on the team because he could oversee that side of the work, as well."

Touchy smiled, obviously relieved to know that the guy he wanted on his team was being considered. I decided to do everything possible to help Leo learn how to run a decent search so that he could fill the role his new boss had in mind for him. This office needed some happy, and getting their leaders in place would be the start of that momentum to move them forward.

The guys got lost discussing various people and accounts. For a while, I just leaned into Ranger, enjoying the feel of him and letting the hum of their masculine voices lull me into a great state of relaxation. When the meeting ended, I tensed up, ready to get off of Ranger so that he could stand up. When the arms around me tightened again, I got the message that he wanted me exactly where I was.

Touchy got to the door and turned back to say, "It was nice to officially meet you, Stephanie."

"You, too," I replied as Ranger spoke over me, commanding the new director to shut the office door on his way out.

Once we were alone, I turned to see Ranger's face better and smiled up at him. "Why does it seem like the privacy you are so guarded with in New Jersey doesn't exist in this office?"

"It still exists," he disagreed. "I had Touchy shut the door, didn't I?"

"Yes, but only after you pulled me into your lap so that we were together in front of him for over half an hour," I pointed out.

"I did that to protect my privacy, too," Ranger replied, beginning to put his dangerous lips into good use on my neck.

"How is me sitting in your lap protecting anything?" I managed to ask just before I sucked in a quick breath at the feel of his teeth grazing my neck.

"When you appeared in the doorway, my body responded to yours like those damn dogs of Pavlov's reacted to a bell," he explained without moving his lips away from my skin. The movement of his mouth tickled against my neck, and I couldn't stop the shiver.

I got the Pavlov reference, but my brain was quickly getting cloudy, so I couldn't quite apply it to the current circumstance. "You started to drool?"

Ranger didn't respond with words; instead, he lifted his hips so that I felt the definite pressure of a very hard erection pressing into the back of my upper thigh. Now I got what he was talking about.

"So I needed you to help cover up the evidence of what happens when all I did was look up. I figured if you moved or said anything, the bulge in my pants would only get more obvious, so I used you to cover it up and protect my privacy," he said, pulling the conversation back to where we started.

"I'm not sure I appreciate being used like that," I pretended to object. It might have been believable if, when he found a particularly sensitive spot behind my ear, my hand hadn't flown up to the back of his head, pressing his mouth tighter against me.

"I can see how fervently you're objecting," he teased after I found the strength to release him. "Maybe we can discuss this further over dinner."

After letting out a low humming sound when his tongue ran up the column of my throat, I finally agreed, "Okay. How do I need to dress?"

"That depends on how your leg feels," he stated, pulling away so that my mind could clear enough for me to answer him.

"It was sore and stiff this morning, but after getting on my hands and knees for Bobby, most of that has faded." I thought my explanation was perfect, but at the mention of being on my knees for one of his men, I heard a low rumble in Ranger's chest. It was like listening to a dog warning another animal to stay away from the things he considered to be his. In thinking it through, I could see how my statement sounded, so for the sake of protecting the man who cared for me most often, I clarified, "I was washing the inside of the cabinets in the medical suite so that he and Needle could restock it.

Ranger's forehead rested on my shoulder, and he shook his head slowly. "From time to time, I would picture the two of us together, and I thought I had identified all the possible downsides to us giving into this. But I never considered that clarifying how I felt about you would make me more jealous instead of less so. It's like admitting that you're too wonderful to resist means that might be true for my men, as well."

I let my fingertips wander across his chest as I pointed out a flaw in his thinking. "The thing you need to remember is that the only person I consider impossible to resist is you. The guys may flirt or tease, or even occasionally touch, but they will never tempt me, because you are all that I want."

"I'm glad to hear that, because I feel the same way," he replied, pulling me in for a searing kiss.

When we broke apart, I felt the need to either lock his office door or to lighten the mood before it got so hot that we broke in this obviously sturdy desk. "You mean the guys may occasionally touch you, but I'm all you'll ever want?"

"Smartass." He grinned as he attempted to chastise me. "Can you be ready to leave in forty-five minutes?"

"That depends on what kind of ready I need to be." I still hadn't been told how to dress.

"Wear something nice. We'll go to a little place I know close by and have a quiet dinner in a good restaurant and then come back to work on that contract renegotiation I believe you've requested."

I let him help me up and gave my knees a second to adjust to standing again. Sea legs were nothing compared to just been kissed by Ranger legs.

As I rode up in the elevator, I was glad that I'd packed a dress. Of course, it was the only one I'd packed, so I hoped it would be appropriate for where we were going. I had to rush through my routine, but there were some things that had to be done, so I shaved and did a fast mini-wax, attempting to prepare for a best case scenario. I didn't have enough time to curl my hair, so I ran some gel through it and hoped that as it dried, it would stay semi-manageable instead of blowing up and frizzing out.

While my hair was deciding which version of its split personality to treat me to, I ran into the bedroom and pulled on a matching bra and panty set. They were both black, French, and trimmed in lace. I'd never worn them because I thought they were too special to just throw on under a pair of jeans, and I refused to give a skip a view of something this nice, so I'd saved them hoping for an occasion worthy of this lingerie splurge. Then I pulled on some black thigh highs and secured them with a matching garter belt. When I took a quick peek in the mirror, I was very happy with what I saw.

Finally, I pulled on my black dress. It wasn't exactly fancy, but the cut was flattering to my figure, and it was comfortable, so I figured I could eat whatever I wanted without worrying about the zipper getting so stressed that it might split open. I was just slipping my feet into my shoes when the door to the apartment opened.

Ranger came in and smiled at me from the doorway. "My God, you're a beautiful woman."

I did a quick turn around so he could see the whole package and then moved closer to him. "You aren't so bad yourself."

I hoped he could pick up on the major understatement of that sentence, because there were no words for how handsome the man in front of me was at the moment. He'd obviously gotten ready downstairs, because he'd appeared in a pair of charcoal pants and a button up white dress shirt with a black jacket on top. He wasn't wearing a tie, so I would be able to look at that little glimpse of his lower neck uninhibited all night long. He was dressed up without looking uncomfortable or stiff, and I couldn't believe this was yet another look he could pull off effortlessly.

When we both put in earrings at the same time, I smiled, realizing that even that act was made manlier looking by him. Everything about him was different than what I was used to, and I decided it was time to stop trying to hold him to the old standards that everyone else had – or hadn't – lived up to. He was a force all his own, and I needed to adjust my expectations accordingly.

He raised and eyebrow in my direction, so I took a wild guess that he was wondering if I was ready. I looked at myself once more in the mirror and nodded, taking his hand when he reached out for me and letting him lead me to the elevator.

"I'm going to miss this when we're back in Trenton," I sighed as he pulled my back to his chest on the ride down to the garage.

He pulled his lips from my neck long enough to ask, "Miss what?"

"This..." I punctuated my word by leaning into him further. "This affectionate side of you that doesn't care who is watching us together."

"Who says you have to miss it?" Ranger asked, sounding curious. "Are you planning on treating me differently in Jersey?"

"No!" I quickly corrected that misconception. "I'll be the same, but you've never been this touchy-feely in front of everyone before, so I figured it wouldn't last when we were in front of the guys that we knew."

"Babe." He spun me around and stopped the elevator all in one smooth motion. "I wasn't as tactile in front of people out of respect to you. Until I knew what you wanted, I wasn't going to risk your reputation by kissing you or holding you around the gossip mongers of our hometown. But now that we're clear about being together, I don't have a reason to hold back. If anything, I might be a little more physical just to be sure that everyone gets the message that you're mine."

He stopped talking long enough to lean in and give me a tender, lingering kiss. He wasn't forcing the passion between us to rise to the surface, but just like turning the heat on low under a pot of water, I could feel the beginning of the warmth between us. I knew by the time the night was over, I would be bubbling over.

When he pulled back, he whispered, "You are mine, right?" I nodded that I was, which allowed him to add, "And when we get back home, will you be okay with a little more public touching?"

"Anytime," I quickly assured him, stretching up to claim another kiss. "Anytime."

I hadn't been aware of him starting the elevator again, so when the bell dinged and the doors opened, I was surprised.

Standing in the garage in front of us were a smiling Cal and Lester.

Les spoke as we stepped out. "We thought the elevator got stuck. If it hadn't started moving soon, I was about the climb down the shaft to rescue you." The grin on his face told me he was more than aware of the fact that there were no mechanical problems. "Then I realized if any shafts were going to get attention, Ranger probably preferred it be his own."

"Santos," Ranger growled out his name, but he started to chuckle at the end of it, and once he lost control of the blank face, I burst out laughing.

"It was a horrible pun, Les, but it was kind of funny," I explained, breaking any tension that might have remained and getting us moving toward the cars.

"Do we really need both of the guys with us?" I asked Ranger when we climbed in the Explorer from the night before. "I thought you said if we went out, you'd personally see to my safety."

"I will," Ranger assured me. "They're here to see to my safety while I'm looking after yours."

There was no way to tell how accurate that statement was, but because of the way he'd stated that the guys were coming with us to protect Ranger himself, I couldn't really argue against them. The last thing I'd ever do purposefully was endanger this man, so it looked like our first real date as a couple was going to happen with a set of twin shadows.

Ranger wasn't happy with the distance between us, so he put an arm around me and pulled me across the slick leather seats so that my side was pressed against his. "They aren't a part of our evening together, but when we're in places I can't secure and I don't want to be on the offensive, then we will have guards with us. Is that something you can handle?"

Privacy was a big thing for me. I'd spent enough time as the object of community discussions and gossip that I coveted the small parts of my life that I could call my own. So having a group share the times that I wanted to treasure as my own was a big deal for me. But in thinking it through, there were some misadventures that never made it to the grapevine.

No one outside of RangeMan was aware that I'd once stunned one of Ranger's men with his own gun in order to escape the safety of his building. No one knew that three months ago, I had been to the boardwalk at Point Pleasant and had too much cotton candy, funnel cakes, and roasted nuts and gotten to the office just in time to hurl everywhere in the garage. It was exactly the kind of thing that would have kicked off innumerable rumors in the 'Burg, and despite every one of the guys being aware, they never spoke of it except to ask if I was all right. These were men who knew how to keep their mouths shut and had proven their loyalty time and time again. Having them around didn't equate in a surrender of privacy. If anything, having them nearby might ensure a greater circle of intimacy because we could relax and leave the curiosity seekers to the guys watching over us.

I'd been lost in my head long enough that I had allowed the silence to stretch, and I could feel Ranger stiffening beside me, obviously worried about my answer. "I can handle it," I assured him. "In time, I think I'll even grow to appreciate it."

Once again, I'd proven the right answer got a more than worthwhile award, because Ranger lowered his lips to mine and kissed me so gently that I wondered if any woman had ever felt this adored.

"All right, love birds," Lester announced from the front. "We're here, and Cal is going to secure the entrance for you. After I park, I'll join him in the restaurant. You can let me know when you're ready to leave, and I'll grab the truck to pick you up."

His word choice sounded light, but his tone was all business. The carefree guy that had been picking on us in the garage was on shift right now, and he took his job very seriously. I relaxed with that thought and realized this must be how Ranger felt. With somebody he trusted watching his back, he could focus on me. Looking at it that way, I no longer resented the extra staff on our date, but I welcomed it.

The restaurant was a small space, probably holding a maximum of eleven tables, with none of them capable of holding more than four people. The smells coming from the kitchen were only enhanced by the small space capturing them and holding the garlic, marinara, and cheese to make me aware of how hungry I was suddenly feeling.

"Ah, Carlos," said an elderly man who walked quickly toward us, despite being slightly humped over at his shoulders. "You are back in town, and you've come for more of my Maria's cooking, yes?"

"That's right. Alfonzo, I'd like you to meet Stephanie." As he introduced me, he put an arm around my waist and drew me closer to his side.

I wasn't sure how long it would take me to adjust to this side of Ranger, but I was looking forward to enough repeated exposure that it might one day feel normal.

"Stephanie, this is Alfonzo. He owns this restaurant, and his wife runs the kitchen," Ranger explained. "They were very kind to me when I was first setting up the office in New York, so every time I'm in town, I always make sure to come by."

"It's very nice to meet you," I replied, my 'Burg manners never failing me. "And from the delicious smells, I'm looking forward to sampling your wife's cooking."

The mention of his bride brought a wonderful smile to his face, and I decided he was one of those special people who accepted everyone he came into contact with. I liked him instantly and was glad to be here for our first real date.

He put us in a cozy table for two. It was shaped like a triangle, which allowed Ranger to have his back in the corner and me to sit beside him instead of across the table. We sat down, and Alfonzo asked, "What are you in the mood to eat tonight?"

I looked down and didn't see a menu, so I glanced at Ranger, who explained, "There aren't menus. You tell him the type of food you're hungry for, and he goes into the kitchen and tells his wife, who creates something especially for you. While you're waiting for it to cook, he brings you a sampling of appetizers and some wine."

Ranger lead by example and told Alfonzo, "I'd love some chicken, nothing too heavy, and a salad with spinach."

"And for you?" he asked, turning to look at me with such a genuine expression of interest that it made me smile.

I thought about it and said, "I'm not the healthy eater he is, so anything covered in cheese with a rich sauce is going to hit the spot."

"Perfecto," Alfonzo replied. "She is the kind of guest my wife loves to cook for," he said to Ranger, before turning back to me and warning, "I hope you are very hungry, because she will prepare a feast based upon that description."

After Alfonzo disappeared, Ranger reached out and took my hand in his.

"I love it here," I confessed.

"The food is wonderful, but Alfonzo and his wife are good people, so I try to stop by every time I'm in town to check on them. They are getting older, and none of their children were interested in helping out in the restaurant, so I don't know how much longer they'll be able to keep it open."

He shared the story of how he'd been caught in an unexpected downpour one night after he'd spent the better part of the day looking at possible office space. Since he was in front of this place when the rain started, he decided to come in while waiting for the storm to pass over. Because the weather kept most people in that evening, Ranger was the only customer for the first hour, so he got the undivided attention of the owner. And even though he rarely shared anything about himself, he caught a glimpse of an old framed purple heart handing on the wall, and he felt a connection to the friendly old man, so he began answering the questions he was being asked. By the time his meal was over, he felt much more confident about his decision to grow his business here. He said it wasn't that Alfonzo had really offered him any good advice that he hadn't thought of on his own, but it was the way he made him feel as though his ideas were good ones that needed to be acted on instead of thought about anymore.

It took us over two hours to finish our meal, since Alfonzo insisted on us staying for dessert. "This is the lovely woman you have spoken of before, so I know she would like to end her meal with something sweet. I will bring you a little something."

His version of a little something turned out to be ample portions of tiramisu, two flavors of gelato, a light fruit mousse, and biscotti to dip in our cappuccinos. It was a relief to have the excuse of needing to eat a lot of the desserts to keep from hurting his feelings. But in truth, they were all too delicious to stop tasting them.

While I was attempting the shine the small glass dish with my spoon, I hinted, "Alfonzo seemed to know a little bit about me."

"Anytime I needed to talk through something, I came here and had dinner. He has spent more than one night trying to convince me to act on my feelings for you instead of holding onto them out of some desire to keep you safe. He'd nearly convinced me to act on how I felt when you started pushing me a little in your emails. I think between the two of you, I didn't stand a chance."

"So how do you feel?" I couldn't help but push some more. I knew it was unfair to back him into a corner like that, but I needed to hear it and not be left to wonder if he was acting this way out of attraction and not something more.

Ranger took my hand in his, forcing me to stop scraping the dessert dish and look at him. He waited to speak, and I got the feeling it wasn't because he was trying to make up his mind. His emotions were set; it was his mouth he was trying to convince.

I knew before he spoke that he'd found the strength to step out of his comfort zone and be vulnerable enough to confess.

"I love you, Stephanie. I have for a long time, even though I tried every possible way to talk myself out of it."

"Why did you try to talk yourself out of it?" I wondered, unable to look away from his dark eyes.

"Because I knew that acting on how I felt would bind us together in a way that I'd never be able to let go of," he confessed.

"Are you planning on walking away?" I asked in a panic.

"Never," he quickly assured me. "But I've watched you walk away from Morelli repeatedly, and I knew I'd never survive that kind of thing."

"I walked away from Morelli because there was nothing there that tied me to him other than a shared history," I attempted to explain the difference.

"And what about now?" he asked, doing a little pushing of his own.

"Now, I completely understand what you mean about being bound in a way that I can't let go of. If you decide to go back to your previous position of not being relationship material, then I don't know how I'll handle that kind of rejection," I told him, trying to give him the same level of honesty.

He ran his free hand over his face and let out a long breath. "It's a wonder you even speak to me after all the bullshit lines I fed you."

"As long as you don't plan on reviving any of your previous positions, I think we'll be fine," I warned him.

"I think the ball for that is completely in your court," he replied.

"My court?" I didn't understand that at all.

"You know that I love you..." He paused briefly to trace down my fingers. "But how do you feel about me?"

In the past, this question would have made me nauseous, but looking into his eyes, I felt that same sense of peace that Ranger always gave me. I felt brave, supported, and adored, and there was no reason to panic when I knew this was the man that had sacrificed in order to guarantee my dreams could come true.

"I love you, Ranger," I confessed. "I love you something fierce."


	14. Paying Up

_JE deserves all the credit for the wonderful characters below._

_Jenny (JenRar) you deserve all the credit for the work you've done as the beta on this story. Thank you!_

_A/N: I'm sorry about missing yesterday's posting. Most days I do a good job of not letting my real job interfere with my fanfiction, but yesterday I had to be the boss all day and didn't have a single spare moment to update the story. To those of you who reached out to be sure I was all right, thanks, it meant a lot to be missed, especially with all I was doing yesterday. I should probably warn you that Monday's update will be in the M section._

**Chapter 14 – Paying Up**

"_I love you, Ranger," I confessed. "I love you something fierce."_

There was a pause where we just looked at each other. There were no dropped jaws or tearful expressions. There was just this moment of connection where we felt as though the truth that we had both carried so privately had finally been released into reality. Saying it out loud didn't make it any more true, nor did it make me feel it any deeper, but it did mean that my last line of defense had been ripped away.

He knew I loved him, and with us both confessing it so clearly, there was no way to take it back if things got hard. If we fought, there was no way to back out and attempt to say the chemistry between us was obviously fading. This wasn't just about sex. Hell, the throbbing between my legs made it abundantly clear that no sex had been involved – yet. This was about that moment in a person's life when they finally understand the old cliché that the truth would set you free. What I'd always thought of as some hokey expression invented by people who hadn't lived an interesting enough life to have skeletons to hide in their closet turned out to be completely true.

I'd held back my feelings for Ranger because I'd always thought confessing them would be relinquishing control over my heart, and I'd had it stomped on enough in the past to want to barricade myself behind some good defenses to prevent a repeat. But this was Ranger. He'd never lied to me. Sure, I knew there were times he knew more than he let on, but he never intentionally mislead me to control me or take away my options. And even when I knew he disagreed with what I wanted to do, once I'd made up my mind, he still moved heaven and hell to support and protect me.

Saying those three little words had been impossible for me in the past because I'd never tried to say them to the right person. Looking into these deep brown eyes, I knew I had the right person this time. I knew the words he'd said to me were just as true. And I could almost see the thoughts passing through his mind that seemed to be running in the same direction as mine. We'd both stepped out on a limb together. Not only did it not break, but we had someone with us now, bonded in a way we didn't understand nor did we need to pick apart.

Drawing in a deep breath I realized the suffocation of a deep emotional conversation I usually felt was absent. If possible, I could have sworn it felt like my heart was full. It sounded silly to say, but it was like having my chest filled with helium. The emptiness that I'd always carried was completely gone, but instead of feeling weighed down like I'd assumed I would when I committed myself to someone, I felt lighter than I ever had.

It was then that I realized one of my hands had moved up to my chest and was resting there. "Do you…" I couldn't figure out how to word my question.

"Definitely," Ranger replied, as though he not only knew what I couldn't put into words, but he felt the same way. The fact that his super ESP was working wasn't surprising. What shocked me was the fact that he attempted to ask me something and struggled to find the right words. "Did you expect…"

I wasn't sure what he wanted to know: did I expect it to feel this way, for it to be this easy, for him to confess like he had? Any of those seemed possible. Of course, the answer to all of them was the same, so I decided to give my mind reading skills a chance and replied, "No, but I have to say, I'm glad I was wrong."

"Me, too, Babe," he said with a tender smile. It would have been nice to know what he meant, but he seemed happy with my answer, so I wasn't going to ruin the moment we had going on here just to clarify.

Alfonzo came by and set a small leather book on the table that I knew contained our bill for the evening. Without even looking at it, Ranger pulled out a credit card and put it in the holder, returning it to the gentleman who had been so charming through our meal and who now seemed to understand that we didn't want additional conversation.

Ranger's hand returned to mine after he handed the book back to Alfonzo, and he began to rub my fingers with his thumb, tracing the shape of my hand as though trying to memorize something about it. "How's your leg feeling tonight?" The question seemed so out of place that I felt like he was asking something entirely different.

Since my intuition had served me so well the last time, I decided to assume his mind was in sync with mine, and I replied, "It's not bothering me at all unless I'm walking fast. So I think it can handle a lot of activity as long as I'm not standing on my feet the whole time."

His grin shifted from tender to predatory in a flash. "So you want to do something strenuous, but off your feet?"

I nodded, not trusting myself if I opened my big mouth.

"I think we are off to a very good start," he replied, catching me off guard.

"How so?" I didn't want to admit that I had no clue what he meant, but I was confused.

"We just confessed how we felt, and already our minds seem to be running in the same direction," he explained, letting one hand move off the table top and down to my uninjured thigh to squeeze it softly.

Alfonzo returned with Ranger's credit card, and after a quick signature and the deposit of a couple of fresh hundred dollar bills for a tip, Ranger stood and held out his hand for me to join him. We moved slowly to the front door, no doubt giving Lester time to get the Explorer in position. After exchanging pleasantries with Alfonzo and promising to return as soon as we could, Cal opened the door for us, stepped out first, and then stepped back to allow us to move into the night behind him.

Watching him move so efficiently, in obviously well-rehearsed acts, I wondered, "There aren't any threats out there that we know about, are there?"

"None besides the usual," Ranger replied calmly. "Why?"

"I didn't even notice Cal in the restaurant, but now that we're back out in the public, he's on some kind of super high alert," I pointed out.

When we climbed in the back, Ranger explained, "Trenton is a nice sized city – big enough to have everything you need and a decent business base for profit, but small enough to be really well known. People on both sides of the track know and respect me – or at the very least, fear my reputation – which affords me a certain amount of protection. If somebody new moved into town, I'd know about it, and the eyes and ears I have on the street would alert me if questions were being asked about my business."

He paused while we got comfortable in the back seat. "In New York, the city is just too big to control in that same way. In certain circles, I'm well known, my business has – or had – a reputation, but that doesn't carry the same weight it would in a smaller city. So when I'm here, my security presence has to be more pronounced. At home, I need to be under the radar when I think there's a threat. Here, I have to assume the threat is already there and protect myself even if I don't know who has me in their sights. It's not the most relaxed way to live, but at least I'm still alive." He paused for a minute and then added, "This kind of thing is part of why I resisted you for so long. It never seemed fair to ask you to ditch your freedom to live with a constant threat of danger every time you left home."

"We should probably clear that up," I began, trying to be sure I had his attention. "You didn't ask me to ditch my freedom. As far as I can tell, I'm still allowed to do whatever I want; you just want me to include taking a guard with me to watch my back. I would want to amend that request that I have some say in who my guard is. I mean, the whole time we were in the restaurant, I didn't even notice Cal or Lester, so when it's called for, they have the ability to blend in. I can live with that. I don't want a group of guys I don't know crowding around me, intimidating the general population so that I feel more like a leper than someone being protected. If it turns into that, I'm warning you now, I'll ditch my detail and run just for the sport of it."

"So as long as you know who is looking out for you and they give you a little space when you're in a more secure setting, then you won't try to ditch them?" he pushed, trying to get a commitment from me.

This seemed important, so I didn't just rush to agree. I took the time to think it through before responding. "When we're away from home, yes. When we're in Trenton, if there's not a known threat, I don't want a constant shadow. You have to be honest with me when something comes up that warrants me having protection around the clock. Even if you can't give me the details about why a person is gunning for you, I still deserve to know that there's a threat to me by association."

A moment passed by in silence as Ranger seemed to be thinking through my counter offer. "I can agree to always let you know if a threat comes up, especially if you can accept the fact that I won't always be able to give you the full history. And in Trenton, I don't see a reason for you to walk around with back-up all the time. But when we get back in town, we're going to need to let the street know you're my woman in more than name. They're going to need to see it for our association to be meaningful everywhere."

"So you're saying that when we get home, I need to be prepared for us to spend a lot of time together and possibly engage in some public displays so the word gets out faster?" I surmised. When Ranger nodded, I told him, "I hardly consider that a burden."

It felt like the ride to the office was twice as fast going back, and before we could get much further in the conversation, Lester was pulling into the garage and transforming back to the laid back guy I knew and loved. "Here we are, folks; please wait for the ride to come to a complete stop before disembarking."

"Anything else tonight?" Cal asked, not quite as ready as Les to drop his on-duty attitude.

Ranger shook his head once from side to side, and Cal smiled. "Then have a great night, and I'll see you tomorrow."

Les and Cal moved to the stairs, while Ranger allowed me to lead him to the elevator. Just before Lester went through the door, he turned back and wagged his eyebrows, basically warning me that something crude was about to be said. "You guys have a good night, and I'll the control room know that if the elevator gets stuck, they should just kill the feed and ignore the little problem."

He dashed out of the garage after poking the tiger with a stick.

"One day, he's going to push me further than our being related can protect, and I'm going to have to apologize to my aunt for breaking her youngest son."

"Maybe I can distract you before it gets to that point," I replied, abruptly changing the subject before Ranger's irritation at Lester could ruin the mood that had begun to build at the restaurant.

When he turned to face me, that single questioning eyebrow was raised. "Distract me?"

"I'm really good at it," I assured him with a smile, backing into the elevator and tugging on his hand so he followed me in.

"I don't doubt that, Babe," he agreed. "I've seen you in action, remember?"

As we began to move up to seven, I pulled him to me and crossed my arms behind his neck, keeping him as close as possible. "But tonight, I'm more determined than usual."

"To what do I owe this determination?" he asked, guiding me to step out of the elevator by putting his hands on my hips and walking slowly enough that our connection could be maintained while I backed up to the door of his apartment.

Ranger fobbed us into the apartment and put his keys in the dish with a loud clank before I responded.

"We've put this off for far too long."

"I couldn't agree more," he replied, wrapping his arms around me to remove the small amount of distance that had been necessary to walk.

"Good." It was hard to keep from smiling before moving my lips up next to his ear and saying, "Then show me the credit card with my RangeMan alias on it."

He froze for a couple of seconds, obviously trying to figure out how he'd been sure we were about to move to the bedroom while I was planning to ask for something entirely different. However, never one to be easily pushed around, he pulled my ear lobe between his teeth for a moment before whispering back, "What makes you think you've earned such a reward?"

I pulled my hands from behind his neck and ran them over his chest before sliding my fingers under the lapels of his jacket and then pushing it off his shoulders. "I did complete the training assignment on both Hal and Hector before leaving Trenton, and after tonight's outing, I believe that both Les and Cal have proven their ability to adjust their behavior as the conditions require it, so according to my accounting, you technically owe me two cards."

"I haven't seen a report that confirms the conclusion of training for Santos and Cal," he countered. "Until I have the paperwork, their training isn't considered complete."

"That's acceptable, but it doesn't change the fact that I'm done with two of eight so I've earned one forth of my agreed upon reward," I countered, slowly undoing his dress shirt and pulling the shirttail from his pants to get to the bottom two buttons, allowing it to fall open to display his sculpted chest.

When my teeth grazed his collarbone, he drew in a breath that was not as smooth as his usual unflappable demeanor. "If you're trying to get me to show you a credit card, you're going about it the wrong way," he pointed out, tightening his grip on me to keep me from pulling away.

"What is the right way?" I moved my mouth off of him, displaying more control than I actually felt.

He made a sound of disapproval when I moved away slightly and then took a deep breath, showing off his skills of control that I had yet to acquire. Continuing to show off that infamous control, he stepped away from me and invited me to follow him.

Not that I planned on letting him out of my sight tonight. I walked behind him, sorry that I'd untucked his shirt because it was covering his rear end in the dress pants that fit him perfectly.

We moved to his office, and he sat in the office chair in front of a desk that looked just like the one in Trenton. When he pulled out the bottom drawer, there was a small lock box in the bottom, hidden under some files. He placed his thumb on a scanner and then lifted it after hearing a series of beeps and a clicking sound.

He only opened the lid partially and pulled out a small white envelope, which he handed to me.

"What's this?" I asked, not sure if I should open it or not.

"It's your reward as agreed upon at the beginning of your assignment. I promised to show you one of the alternate identities that I had for you in case something went wrong," he explained, pointing to the envelope. "Open it."

I eased my finger under the corner of the flap and gently tore the package open, pulling out a passport, license, credit card, and money clip that appeared to be full of hundred dollar bills. I looked at the names on the documents and saw that they all read Michelle Phillips. As far as names went, it wasn't so bad. I could probably even answer to it since it was my middle name and a last name close enough to Plum that it wasn't totally foreign. Lifting up the cash I asked, "What's this?"

His mouth tightened slightly, as though he wasn't really excited about explaining what I was holding, but I got a fresh wave of affection for him when he shoved down his own discomfort and answered my question anyway. "That packet is a _get away_ identity in case you ever needed to run fast. It's everything you'd need to take care of yourself for a little while until we could resolve whatever threat had arisen. The credit card is obviously to cover most of your costs, because there is no limit. The license is a necessary form of ID for almost anything, including rental car, hotel room, or plane ticket. The passport allows you to leave the country if the threat is bad enough, and the cash is for emergency purposes, because even though you have the credit card, sometimes you have to have a little green to get things done."

"How much money is in this clip?" I wondered, curious but not willing to take it out and count it.

"It's only twenty-five hundred dollars," he replied, as though the word _only_ belonged anywhere near that amount of cash. There had been many times in my life when what he apparently considered pocket change was more than I had as my entire net worth. "It would be enough to keep you floating temporarily, but not enough to establish a new life. I wanted you to be able to run to stay safe, but I didn't provide enough for you to disappear forever. Admitting to it now, it was probably not a smart move."

Hearing him confess that he'd done something that I considered to be incredibly generous but he believed to be selfish and controlling took away some of the fun this was supposed to represent, so I forced myself to focus on the license. The picture was me, but I had straight hair. It took me hours to make it look like that. "It would truly have to be a matter of life of death for me to use this, because it would take all morning for me to flat iron my hair to get it that straight. So it would have to be worth the soreness in my arms for me to go through that kind of trouble."

Ranger smiled at my joke and watched me put everything back in the envelope and return it to him.

"You've obviously thought this out. How long have you had that?"

"Two and a half years," he answered.

"That was well before Scrog," I said after doing the mental math, surprised he'd gone through so much trouble for me before that. It wasn't until that psycho took me that my life had ever been in danger because of my association with him.

"Just because he was the first one to make my fears come true didn't mean I hadn't considered the possibility of you needing some protection at some point. I hate being unprepared, so I had this pulled together just to be safe," he explained, surprising me at how easily he seemed to be sharing this information. For over three years, he'd hidden every detail unless I pestered him into giving up a little, and now he was fully answering everything I asked and volunteering some information on his own. It was unnerving and exhilarating all at once.

As I handed him the filled envelope to replace in the box, I joked, "So once I write up my reports on Lester and Cal tonight, you'll let me see another card?"

"If the reports are satisfactory," he countered, smirking with what he apparently considered a witty response.

It made no sense why I'd shoot myself in the foot like this, but my mouth opened and I asked, "Can I use your computer here to type up my reports? The sooner I get them done, the sooner I can satisfy my curiosity about my other names."

He didn't answer me immediately, electing to focus on returning everything back to the box and covering the box back up so that the desk looked untouched. Then he used his feet to pull the rolling desk chair forward in order to grab my hips. Once he had me as close as he wanted, his hands moved to the bottom of my dress and then worked their way back up, caressing my thighs.

"Work day is over, Babe," he replied, interrupting his thought with a low moan when his fingers traced over the top of my thigh highs and landed on the garter holding them up at the top. "You're trying to kill me here, aren't you?"

My hands moved to rest on his shoulders before getting antsy and threading themselves through his loose hair, envying the silky feel between my fingers. "I could possibly be convinced to let this go until the morning..."

"What would it take?" Ranger asked, his voice sounded rougher than it had earlier this evening. There was an edge to it that acted as a warning not to push him too far or I might unleash something I couldn't handle.

"Hmmm." I pretended to consider his question and struggled to come up with anything to bargain with, so I gave up and said, "I think you said earlier that you had some ideas of ways to exhaust me without me having to be on my feet."

He looked up at me, his brown eyes nearly black from the size of his dilated pupils. "I did say that."

I glanced at the floor and back up to his face to say, "It appears I'm still standing, so if you want me forget about typing up training reports, then you'll need to do something to show you're more than talk."

I could feel him laughing when he rested his face against my abdomen. When he pulled back, he explained the humor by saying, "You're the first person to accuse me of being all talk and no action. I think I'm going to have to be extra diligent in reminding you why I'm called a man of action."

The challenge was there, clearly evident on his face, so I met his gaze with one equally set and replied, "And yet, here you are talking, and I'm still the one standing up."

That was all it took to knock over the control he'd somehow held onto up to this point. He stood up and lifted me off my feet in one movement so fast and smooth that I didn't have time to react in any way. He got us out of the office and into the bedroom in a matter of steps. Moving to the edge of the mattress, he placed me on the bed and lowered me down so that I was lying back, definitely off of my feet.

He removed my shoes and ditched the dress shirt that was just hanging on him since I'd already taken care of the buttons in the front hall. Then he moved his hands to his belt and slowly unhooked the clasp before pulling it free from the loops of his trousers and tossing it on the ground. He moved efficiently to pull a small handgun from his back and then lifted his leg to rip off an ankle holster, switching legs to take off a knife that had been on the opposite ankle, pulling the socks off his feet at the same time.

"Are the weapons too much?" he asked, noticing my staring eyes.

Shaking my head no, I assured him, "I'm just taking note of where everything is hidden so that I can safely take it off next time."

"Already planning a next time?" he asked, grinning as he pushed his pants off his hips and they fell to the floor.

I was amazed at how different men and women were. Obviously, there were the physical differences, but more than that, he stood in front of me with no shame over his nudity even though all the lights were on. Women didn't tend to move so slowly in bright lighting without any clothes to hide behind. Of course, if I had a body as gorgeous as his, I'd probably walk around naked all the time just so I could catch a glimpse of myself in a mirror from time to time.

Laughter coming from the foot of the bed was evidence that at a bare minimum, the last sentence had been said aloud. I guess being with Ranger was already boosting my confidence, because instead of blushing and trying to hide, I decided to respond, "I'm planning a next time because you have yet to do anything, and I'm beginning to wonder if this would be better if I took the lead."

All hint of amusement left his face at that, and he crawled up the mattress to hold himself over me. "I've got nothing against you leading in the bedroom, but do it because you want to try being assertive, not because you think I'm not delivering. Because I haven't even begun to take care of you tonight," he warned me.

Wisely, I kept my mouth shut and allowed him to back up, holding my hands to move me to a seated position, as well, giving him access to the zipper at my back. After opening the back of the dress, he pushed it off my arms and let it bunch up at my waist, revealing the bra underneath. His fingers lightly traced the lace, which was nearly see through.

"This is beautiful."

"I was saving it for a special occasion," I admitted, hoping this wasn't the first of many sentences that my mouth was going to blurt out without editing.

Ranger lowered me back to the bed without using his hands. He moved to hover over me and began to kiss my neck, forcing my head back to give him better access. He applied a little more pressure, and I found myself slowly falling backward in surrender. While he continued to lavish my chest with slow kisses, I felt his hand move down to work the dress over my hips. Not acting the least bit rushed, he worked down my ribs and across my stomach before lifting himself up after pushing the dress off of me.

"These are nice, too," he commented, lightly touching the matching panties.

"It was a set," I told him, like some kind of nervous teenager who felt the need to fill the silence with anything that popped into their mind.

"Do you have any more sets like this?" he asked, not looking up at me but watching his fingers trace the v-shape at the front made out of a silky lace.

"No," I replied honestly. "They were kind of expensive, so I only got one."

"Can you still buy these? Are they still made?"

I wasn't sure what he was getting at. "I just got them a couple of months ago, so I'm sure they can be purchased somewhere." I figured there were times when the why didn't matter. I just answered the question and hoped it would be enough to get his mouth on my body again.

"I'm going to try to be gentle, but if I end up ripping them, I'll buy you a new set." His face lowered toward me and pulled up just before contact was made to add, "I'll buy you dozens of new sets."

Normally, I would have argued that I was perfectly capable of buying my own lingerie, but his mouth finally landed on me, and the feel of his teeth through the satin was enough to take away my ability to speak coherently.

We were together...we were really about to have sex with no guilt, no ambiguity, no curses, and no uncertainty about the future. This was going to be good.

"If it's only good, then I've failed," Ranger interrupted what I thought were my mental ramblings.

"We're going to do this, Babe." He lifted his head and then used his fingers to push my panties to the side and gently touch what had been covered so that my breath left me in a quick whoosh of pleasure. "And it's going to be as close as you can get to doomsday without actually dying."

"You set an awfully high bar for yourself," I found the breath to tease him once he stopped moving his hand.

"Lucky for you, I'm a high achiever," he taunted me in return with that confidence that never crossed over to arrogance but left no doubt that he could deliver.

"And lucky for you I rested up this morning so that I can last a long time," I teased, attempting to up the ante.

"Bring it on, Babe." He calmly met my challenge. "Before this night is over, you're going to be unconscious...and not because you just fell asleep."

Damn, an orgasm that could make me black out? I thought those were just a myth. Seeing the assurance on his face, I knew if anyone could do it, Ranger could. And I was more than willing to let him try to meet his goal all night long. Even if he ultimately failed, I'd still be satisfied enough that I doubted I'd be walking very stably.

"Babe, you're going to be satisfied enough that walking won't even be possible."

_Gulp!_


	15. Trust is More Than a Word

_JE created the characters below_

_Jenny (JenRar), I am so honored to be able to work with you. Your beta skills have made this story so much better and stronger. Thank you!_

**Chapter 15 – Trust is More Than a Word**

The next morning, I woke up slowly, loving the way that as I began to regain control of my body, I started to get flashes of what had happened the night before. When I quickly tested the room by opening my eyes, the bright sunlight caused me to snap them shut immediately. Obviously, I'd slept most, if not all, of the morning away. I should have felt guilty about that, but as I remembered how late it was by the time I'd collapsed on top of Ranger, unable and unwilling to move, I figured I'd earned the right to be lazy today.

Last night certainly wasn't the first time Ranger and I'd had sex. But there was no comparing what we'd shared during those hours to all our past experiences. I was given glimpses of the passionate, fierce side of him, only to be followed by the tender, adoring side. I was loved completely in ways I hadn't considered before but would never take for granted again. He had this unnerving way of making the times when he was looking at me seem every bit as intimate as when we were physically joined. He could turn the mood from playful and lighthearted to animalistic just by varying the pressure of his touch.

I knew my body couldn't handle another round already, not after the last time we'd gone at each other at three thirty this morning, but I could feel the separation and didn't like it, so I turned my head to his side of the bed and slowly peeled my eyes open. His pillow was empty, and I was alone in the bed. Before I could get worked up over it, I noticed a tray resting where he should have been, and a smile crept over my face.

Even though I knew I was alone, I felt the need to pull the sheet up tighter across my chest. Then I slid closer to the wicker tray holding a covered dish that I hoped held something containing large amounts of sugar and a carafe of what had better be coffee. The single rose lying on the top of the tray surprised me enough that I reached out for it, wanting to catch a breath of its scent. When my arm stretched out, I groaned, feeling the soreness from last night's activities.

He'd promised to wear me out enough that I wouldn't be able to walk, and when I attempted to move closer to the food next to me, I began to believe he'd succeeded. Everything was sore. Thinking back through the night, I knew there had been some positions I'd never been in, and I remembered the sheer force a couple of our encounters had created, but the combination of those two things on top of the hours we'd spent exploring had left me feeling boneless and tender.

I lay there, glaring at the covered plate, trying to calculate the probability that it contained something that would be worth going through the agony of lifting the lid. Finally, I decided that I couldn't stay in the bed all day or that would be admitting that Ranger had worn me out, which would give the appearance that I wasn't capable of keeping up with him. Just because that was true didn't mean I was ready to admit to it.

Understanding my pride was at stake here, I forced my body to move and lifted the lid from the plate, promptly throwing it on the floor. Sitting where I'd wanted to see French toast or even doughnuts was an egg white omelet, a muffin that no doubt included huge amounts of fiber, and some mixed fruit. None of that was worth the agony of having forced myself to move.

Although, after going through the trouble of repositioning myself, I was able to see a note, which appeared to be handwritten. My name was at the top, so I easily forgot about the insult of the healthy breakfast and picked up the card addressed to me instead.

_Babe, I hope by the time you find this, it's well past lunch. But I couldn't risk you waking up in the same shape I did this morning without anything to eat. This building has someone to cook and clean, but she doesn't treat the guys the same way Ella __does, so__ this is as close to a splurge breakfast as she could produce this morning. I plan on talking to her today about having some alternative options available tomorrow. In the meantime, the protein will help you to have the energy to move from the bed to the __shower, and__ the warm water there will help to loosen you up enough to move beyond that. If you make it that far, I plan on coming upstairs for lunch so we can figure out the rest of our day together. I was exhausted this __morning, but__ the memory of last night was more than worth the ribbing I'm sure I'll get downstairs. I love you, ~R_

On the third read through, I realized I was eating the fruit on the plate without processing that it was healthy. I thought it was some kind of melon. Scooped out in little balls, it was perfect for popping in my mouth. Whatever it was called, it was sweet enough to nearly pass for candy, so I shut my eyes and tossed in more, pretending it was something other than health food. After I cleared away all the fruit, I begrudgingly picked up the fork and cut off a large bite of the omelet.

There was no way I could convince myself this was French toast or even a sausage biscuit from McDonalds, but I had to admit, it was still full of flavor. It would have been better with twice as much cheese and some bacon crumbled up inside, but it wasn't bad as it was. By the time I was halfway through and pouring myself a second cup of coffee, I'd managed to sit up and was beginning to feel like I just might have the energy to make it to the bathroom. There was no reason to be too hasty, so I finished the food off and then made my way over to the bathroom, glad that I was alone so that no one could witness my unsteady steps and the fact that I couldn't walk in a straight line.

The water was instantly warm, and I smiled at the thought that no one else in the building would be showering now so I had access to the entire hot water supply all by myself. I could stay in here until Ranger came up to help me get out.

I didn't have a way to gauge the time I'd been in the shower, but after what felt like fifteen minutes, the heat began to make me feel better. I gently washed using copious amounts of Ranger's shower gel. I blamed the smell and the fact I was finally starting to feel more like myself for the moan that I let out.

As soon as the sound stopped coming from my throat, the door to the shower opened, and a naked Ranger came in to join me. He kept some distance between us, taking his time to look at me.

"You are one sexy woman," he said in lieu of a good morning. "And you have my favorite look going on."

"What look?" I wondered, not aware that he was into wet cats. I'd washed my hair, so it was no doubt lying flat on my head in a less-than-flattering way.

"You look thoroughly loved and completely sexed up," he explained, stepping closer to me and touching the places on my body that bore the marks from our passion last night. "Was I too rough on you?" He seemed worried.

I shook my head no, unwilling to let him second guess what we'd shared. Then I lightly traced over a set of scratches on his chest that I knew I'd inflicted with my fingernails. I'd bet good money on the fact he bore multiple matching sets on his back. "No more so than I was on you. Was it too much?"

"Never," he replied, pulling me closer to him so that our bodies were flush against each other.

"Never is a long time," I pointed out.

"I'd prove it to you now, but I'm too tired," he admitted, smiling a little.

Deciding to take pity on him and reward him for confessing that he was worn out, I lifted the cloth that I had filled with frothy bubbles and began to wash his already clean chest. It was a way to make him feel good and to have an excuse to run my hands all over him at the same time.

When I stepped behind him, I couldn't help but wince at the way his back looked. "Ranger, I'm so sorry. I had no idea I was peeling the skin off your back." I couldn't decide if I'd turned him into some kind of road map or a strange mocha and scratch-colored zebra.

"No worries," he assured me. "At the time, it made it feel even better, and this morning, it's reminded me that what we shared was real."

"You really don't mind?" I asked, trying to figure out why he'd consider pain in sex a good thing.

Ranger spun so quickly that I didn't realize what he was doing until he had me pinned against the tile, with one hand pulling me tight against him and the other gripping my hair at the back of my head tightly. He closed his grip on the handful of hair just enough for me to feel the slight pulling against my scalp, and my heart began to beat faster. I licked my lips, even though I knew they were already wet, and hoped he would hurry up and kiss me. The soreness I'd felt since waking up was forgotten, and all I could think was that somehow, he was magic. I had been sure my body couldn't handle any more attention from him, but now that he was giving it, I wanted him to move faster.

His hips thrust against mine, continuing to push me into the wall and giving me a feel of how interested he was suddenly feeling, even though he'd just told me he was too tired to do anything.

"Do you feel that?" he asked, continuing with the slow and steady movement of his hips.

I nodded, my hair pulling more with the movement of my head. Ranger wasn't a small man by any means, and when he had me pressed again the wall and was rubbing himself against me, there was no way to miss the _that_ I thought he was referring to.

"Do you feel how the hint of pain when I pull your hair makes your heart beat faster? Do you feel the way your body responds and all your nerves seem on hyper alert just from the suggestion that I could hurt you?" He corrected what he'd been referring to, and I nodded again.

"I'm a physical man, Babe, taught and tested to withstand all kinds of torture. I need a little more to break through my shields and get going. So little scratches like these aren't something I regret. Hell, they're something I crave. I told you once that I was sick, and this only a small part of that. I want you, Stephanie, and I want you to be comfortable with all the ways that I want you."

The more he spoke, the hotter I got, even though I was no longer standing under the warm water. "How many ways do you want me?" I whispered.

"Would you run if I said there was no limit to the number of ways I wanted you?" he asked, his voice sounding strangely low as his chest vibrated against mine.

I shook my head no ever so slightly as a response. I wasn't even sure he'd noticed until he moved his hands to grip my hip and shoulder and spun me around so that my chest was against the tile and his body was pressed into my back. Now when his hips made their slow undulations forward, I could feel the evidence of how much he wanted me in this particular way moving against my ass.

Despite being raised in the 'Burg, I was no prude. I mean, I'd never used a sex swing, and I had no idea how they even worked, but I'd managed to keep up with Ranger last night and live to tell about it. But the one thing he seemed to be suggesting was the one thing I'd never been able to tolerate the idea of. God made my body with a perfectly good orifice for sex, and I didn't see any reason for me to offer up a hole for a different purpose when a few inches forward was the spot created just for that.

As if he'd sensed the shift in my body, going from turned on and willing to uptight and worried, he began to kiss my neck. When he worked his way to my ear, he whispered. "I'm not going to lie to you, Babe; I want you like this, too. But you need to trust me that I'd never force you into something you aren't comfortable with. I want you to enjoy everything that happens between us, and you'll never get the full effect as frightened as you are right now."

Even though it was true, I tried to disagree out of habit. "I'm not scared. I just don't want anything to go in back there, and being like this makes me feel like it could happen and I couldn't stop it."

"If I promised you that nothing is going to slip in where you don't want it, would you trust me to play a little standing behind you?" he asked, his voice low. I didn't respond right away, so he spoke once more. "Do you trust me not to break my promises to you?"

"Of course I trust you," I blurted out, knowing the words were true because he'd proven them time and time again.

"Then you have my word, so this shouldn't be any different." His logic was sound, but my body wasn't getting on board with what my brain knew to be true. "Every man has a specific body part he's drawn to, and for me, it is absolutely a well-shaped ass. You have the hottest back side, perfectly rounded and made for my hands. I can't stop looking at you, and when we're together, it's all I can to keep my hands off. I love to touch your ass, to grip these cheeks, and one day, I'd like to spank them, just to see that rosy color your face gets when you're embarrassed transferred onto these globes, as well." He laughed in a way that told me he had something else to add to that list. "That's right, Babe; I'd love to fuck it, too, but not now, maybe never, because I've promised you, I've given you my word that I'll never do something you don't want."

It was a strange feeling to be nervous to the point of nearly shaking, but at the same time to feel a wetness between my legs that had nothing to do with the shower. I didn't want him to do most of what he'd just said, but I couldn't deny that when he was talking, I was hanging on every word. I always knew being with Ranger would be an intense experience, and now that I was living the reality of it, I briefly wondered if I could handle it. If those were things he wanted, would he be happy with me long term if I told him that anything anal was out of the question?

"Don't think, just feel," he encouraged me from behind me.

Then he took my right hand from the wall where I'd braced myself and moved it to rest on the back of his neck. He repeated the process with my left hand, pausing only long enough to kiss it as he raised that hand to join the other. With my arms raised and slightly stretched behind me, my chest was sticking out, and Ranger wasted no time in moving his hands up to cup my breasts. There was no hurry in his movements, every touch was made in that assured and methodical way he specialized in.

As he rolled the nipples I'd thought for sure were too sore to be touched for days, I heard my own voice say his name, almost as a plea that he not stop. He played my body like he was psychic, knowing exactly how hard and how long to touch me, and all I could do was hold onto his neck and let him. I didn't have the energy to fight it, and honestly, as good as I felt right now, I couldn't think of a single reason why I'd try.

I felt Ranger moving us so that we were more in the corner of the shower than we'd begun. My eyes refused to stay open, even though I loved trying to see what he was doing to me. In the end, the pleasure was just too much, and I gave up trying to watch, surrendering to the things Ranger's magic hands could do.

A sound, slightly like a young child would make when his parents took their favorite toy away, slipped from my throat when he took a hand off of me. When it returned, it was on my shoulder, applying a little pressure to encourage me to lean forward. I resisted, attempting to keep my hands on his neck, but he lifted each one off in turn and put them on the wall of the shower in front of me. Then he lifted my right leg, as though it weighed nothing, and placed my foot on the built-in corner chair.

I started to tense up, but his hands moved around to resume what they'd been doing, and the comment I'd been about to let out telling him this wasn't going to work for me was lost in the long moan that took over my vocal chords.

Ranger bent over me, covering my back with his large chest to speak right next to my ear. "Do you see how good it can feel when you just give yourself to me and let me give you all the pleasure I can? When your trust becomes something other than a word, you can feel your body relaxing into the promise I made to respect what you want."

As he spoke, I was reassured and somehow managed to get even more turned on. I'd always hated having someone attempt to talk to me during sex. I mean, if you want to chat, then let's grab a few beers and sit on the sofa. But when my clothes are off, I don't want to engage in dialogue. Hearing Ranger talk, not belittling me or making me feel like a slut with vulgar words and suggestions, made me want to ask him to say something else just so I could hear the soothing sound of his voice. It was almost hypnotic, as though my body would go along with whatever he said because my trust in him wasn't a decision I'd made...it was something engrained in me and unwavering.

It was that thought that kept me from fighting him when his hand moved to position himself behind me, bending at the knees to adjust his height so that he could easily slide in. He moved slowly but didn't stop sliding until our thighs were touching. Luckily my eyes were already shut because small flashing lights began to appear.

I knew that small variations like lifting a leg, shifting the angle, or rolling your hips in different ways all made the sensation different because the contact would change. But the second Ranger slid into me from behind, I began to wonder why I'd resisted this position when Dickie tried it. I felt fuller than ever and couldn't stop myself from pushing against the wall with my hands in an attempt to draw him in even deeper.

Ranger's hands clamped down on my hips, stopping my movement. "Hold on," he got out with a voice sounding strained and forced. "Just give me a minute."

I felt him take a slow breath before he pulled back and glided smoothly back in, touching me in places I swore had never been touched before. The little white lights returned, not quite as bright this time, and another sound escaped from my throat that I hoped he could interpret as meaning this felt incredible and if he stopped I'd shoot him with his own gun.

Ranger continued to move, not going as fast as I wanted but still pulling sensations from me that were new and overwhelming. Just as I thought I might be able to survive this, he released my hips and let his hands wander over my body. One hand moved back to tease my breasts, hanging down so that the touches felt more intense than I remembered. The other hand massaged my ass, digging into the muscle and relaxing me even more. The phrase "putty in his hands" came to mind, and I found I didn't object to the idea as long it meant feeling like this.

Just as his thrusts began to speed up, he moved his hand from my backside to the front and found the bundle of nerves between my legs. I screamed his name without the ability to stop the sound when he pulled my clit between his fingers, alternating between soft pinches and using the pad of his thumb to caress.

When Ranger said, "Come, Babe. Come with me now," my body responded, and the orgasm that I knew had been slowly building erupted out of me in an alarming way. The faint lights behind my eyelids became a bright show of flashing colors, and the muscles surrounding him clamped down, milking his pleasure, as well, as evidenced by the sound of my name echoing off the tiles around us. Ranger continued to slowly thrust into me, adjusting his height each time so that he would touch new nerve endings with every movement. Each time, my body would tighten up anew, and I briefly wondered if there was world record for the length of an orgasm.

One of my hands fell off the wall where Ranger had put it, breaking the spell of the moment and bringing me back to reality. "Oh…shit," I said, not sure I was capable of adding to that thought but feeling like I needed to let him know how much I'd enjoyed what he'd done.

Ranger's arms tightened around me, and I realized he was basically holding me up. Without his strength supporting me, I was convinced I would have fallen over. He slowly worked his hands up my torso and then pulled me up to a standing position. After pausing to be sure I was okay standing, he moved my foot off the bench. I could feel myself swaying and wondered why it was so hard to find my center of gravity.

He must have picked up on it because he turned me in one efficient movement and guided me to sit down on the corner seat. Then he spun around, refreshed the washcloth with gel, and slowly set about washing me. There was a piece of me that wanted to object, to tell him to leave the evidence of what we'd just experienced. But then I realized if the last twelve hours was any indication, we wouldn't be going that long between sessions where new evidence would be given, so I kept my mouth closed and let my eyes shut once more.

Not being able to see what he was doing only made it feel better. The hands that had just dug into the muscles around my hip and backside were now touching me so softly, it made me feel dainty and feminine. After ensuring that no spot had been left untouched, he quickly ran the cloth over his own body and then unhooked the showerhead to rinse the soap from both of our bodies.

I was definitely awake, but the fact that I wasn't watching what he was doing gave it a dream-like feel. Like I was floating in a place that contained only pleasure and peace.

I had no idea how long we'd been in the shower, but the realist in me knew we had to get out at some point. Still, I was saddened when the sound of the water stopped, and the silence that now filled the air seemed to overwhelm me. My eyes blinked opened in time to see Ranger open the door and reach out for the one of the enormous white towels hanging on the wall. He wrapped the first one around his waist and then grabbed a second one and moved back to his spot in front of me.

My hand reached out to take the towel, ready to accept that the moment had to end and I had to get out of the shower.

But Ranger shook his head and said, "No, let me do it."

I wasn't really capable of arguing with him, so I let my hand fall uselessly back to my side, and my eyes shut yet again as he gently blotted the water from my body before pulling me up and holding me against him with one hand to repeat the action on my back.

When he was finished, he dropped the towel to the floor of the shower and then swept my legs from under me, carrying me bridal-style back to bed.

When the silky goodness of his impossible to classify thread count sheets hit my back, I said, "But I just got up,"

I could hear his amusement at my attempt to argue with his suggestion we return to bed. "That was at least a couple of hours ago, Babe; I've been here since lunch time."

"What time is it now?" I wondered, allowed him to stretch me out in the center of the bed.

"It's after fourteen hundred hours," he replied, and then clarified, "Quarter after two."

"Wow," I eloquently responded.

His finger slowly moved down the center of my body, beginning at my neck, moving between my breasts, and circling my navel before stopping just at the top of the curls between my legs. "Wow is right."

The mattress moved, and I felt his body behind me as he pulled me tightly against him. "Are we taking a nap?" I wondered, trying to remember if Ranger ever took naps.

"Just a little one," he replied, settling us in the most comfortable position before stilling completely.

This side of Ranger was one I'd never imagined. Having him act like he was in need of a mid-day rest made him seem more human than I'd ever thought he could be. And the tender way he'd cleaned and dried me showed me the full extent of the word lover. People who used that title only for action in the bed didn't understand what it could be. Before today, I had been one of them, but I'd never restrict that term in such a way again. He'd used his voice to soothe me, he'd called on the connection between us so that I could relax, and then he'd taken his time using his body to please mine in ways I had never experienced. Once it was over, he was still making love to me, cleaning my body and drying me off, proving that nothing about what we had together was going to fit into my past experience.

Sex was sex, and while it had its place, it was the whole experience we'd just shared that had surprised me. He'd begun making love to me with the breakfast he'd left, and he was still doing it by holding me close and making sure I rested. I had a feeling he was more than capable of drawing on some superhuman storehouse of strength to get up and go back to work. But he was choosing to climb into bed to be sure I got the rest I needed. That was just one more piece of evidence for how he loved me.

That realization was all it took to finish demolishing the few remaining blockades around my heart. They didn't fall because of some act he'd done, although one could argue it was all the acts over the last few years that had finally given the evidence that it was safe to lower them. Instead, they fell because I decided to get rid of them in order to give Ranger access to every part of me. If what he'd just given me was what happened when I trusted him enough to not fight, then I wasn't interested in trying to hold back. It had been amazing, and I couldn't wait to experience it again with no holds barred.

I let out a long breath, feeling my muscles relax against Ranger's body, and on the last bit of air, I whispered, "I love you, Ranger."

For the first time I could ever remember, I went to sleep feeling completely at peace. My mind and body were calm, and my heart was warm and full. I knew there would be challenges for us to face, and I wasn't so naive that I believed every day would be easy, but I knew that I trusted Ranger's love for me. And even though I could come up with hundreds of reason why he shouldn't feel that way, I believed him when he said he did.


	16. Sound Advice

_JE created the characters below. I gladly give her the credit since she lets us have so much fun with them._

_Jenny (JenRar) I marvel at your skills as a beta. Thank you for working with me, and handling my steady stream of chapters._

**Chapter 16 – Sound Advice**

My stomach growled loud enough to break my concentration, so I stopped reading the search I was working on and went to the break room for a snack. I didn't hold out much hope that there would be anything here to tempt me, but I was growing too hungry to care.

I bent over and opened the fridge, hoping that if I gave the contents a stern enough gaze, something delicious would surrender for me to eat it.

That plan not only failed but backfired on me, as well, when a voice behind me said, "Damn, Beautiful, are you shopping or suggesting that you're a part of the contents so that we can pick you for our lunch if we want?"

By the time I turned around, Lester was already rubbing the back of his head, and Bobby was smirking.

"Thanks, Bobby," I said, grinning at my favorite medic.

"You look like you're struggling to find something to eat," he perceptively commented.

"Nothing here looks good," I pointed out. "Ella always kept some things for me to eat hidden in the fridge or the cabinets, but everything here is completely healthy." As I said the last part, I scrunched up my face to show my displeasure.

Leo walked in with Touchy and heard the end of my rant. "Yeah, Manuel made it clear that if we had any contraband in the building, the person responsible for bringing it in would be terminated immediately."

Then Touchy pointed to a camera to give evidence of how they would know who to punish.

"Well, you're in charge now. Can't you relax that rule, at least a little?" I suggested, wishing it could be effective immediately.

"I'll talk to the guys, but I think it will take a while to strike the right balance between not being afraid to eat a hamburger and loading the break room with junk we shouldn't be eating," Touchy replied, obviously having given this some thought. Knowing he was at least willing to relax some of the rigidity here helped me to relax.

Giving the unhelpful container of bran, protein, and fiber a final glare, I finally announced, "You guys may be stuck here, but I'm not. This is the busiest city in the country; surely I can find something with grease and maybe even a little cheese out there somewhere."

With that, I pushed off where I was leaning and began to move to the door of the break room.

Lester stepped in my way just before I walked out. "Aren't you forgetting something?"

Was I? "I'll get my pocketbook before I go so that I'll have money and my keys to get back in the building."

Lester shook his head but said nothing else to clue me in about what he was referring to.

My stomach growled, loud enough that Leo swore and Touchy had his hand on his gun. Bobby and Lester had been treated to my hunger sounds before, so they stood calmly beside me. I looked at Bobby and tried to give him a look that asked for his help in getting Lester out of my way.

Bobby took pity on me and said, "Didn't you promise Tank that while you weren't in Trenton, if you left the building, you would take someone with you?"

"I'm just going to lunch," I pointed out. "There are plenty of places within walking distance, and it's broad daylight."

"Which makes getting a perfect shot lined up in a scope all the easier," Lester said, not giving me any clue if he was attempting to make a sick joke of some sort.

A few seconds clicked away while I looked at the two guys in front of me. They weren't budging, and a quick weighing of the pros and cons of arguing with them so that I could get out quickly came to the conclusion that it didn't matter. I had promised Tank before he agreed to fly me down here, and more importantly, I'd promised Ranger, and they were helping me to keep my word. Without telling them anything, I pulled my phone out of my pocket and typed in a fast text.

Almost immediately after I hit send, Cal appeared behind Les and said, "You ready to roll, Angel? I'm starving, and when I checked out the break room earlier, there was nothing in there that I was interested in eating."

Les and Bobby grinned, and I couldn't stop myself from returning it. They weren't bragging that they'd gotten their way. They were proud of me for not changing my mind and bucking the shadow I'd agreed to when we came down here initially.

An hour later, I was coming back into the office, feeling much better after finding a street vendor who made the most delicious fried chicken baskets with sauce to dip the tenders in and French fries that had been covered in some kind of seasoning that I was practically licking off of the wax paper lining of my little tray. On the way back, we'd come across an ice cream man, and Cal had treated me to a couple of scoops. The more time I spent with him, the more I was convinced he was the perfect shadow. His appearance was enough to scare of most people, his skills were enough to take care of the rest, but he was a lot of fun to hang out with despite his tough exterior.

When we walked in the front door, the guy at the front desk waved us both in, and I thought about how far they'd come in the four days we'd been here. Ranger felt like he'd done everything he could to set them up for success, and after finishing another day of client meetings to reassure the larger clients that a change in leadership here was in their best interest, I think he was beginning to consider going home to give Touchy a chance to prove what he could do.

As much as I liked being here, I was ready to get back to Trenton and see if what Ranger and I had built here would only get better back in the familiar of home. Cal and I were laughing on our way to the elevator when Ranger stepped out of the stairs. Somehow, he managed to go up and down multiple flights of stairs without getting a wrinkle in his tailored suit or even breaking into a hint of a sweat.

"Babe." He walked right over to me and pulled me against him for a hug, nuzzling next to my ear and placing a soft kiss on my check before backing up enough to be sure I was focused enough for him to tell me something.

I shook my head, trying to clear the fuzzy feeling that came over me whenever Ranger greeted me so affectionately, and then nodded when I was ready to listen.

"I spoke to Mrs. Connelly this morning, and she's agreed to meet with me here tomorrow at nine," he said, as though that should mean something to me. "She's the one that wrote the letter about the botched security job," he added after I didn't immediately respond.

"Ohhh..." I dragged out the sound as I realized how important it was to Ranger that he try to redeem his name to this woman who'd been so disappointed by him that she'd sent a handwritten letter to complain.

"I was hoping you could meet with us to tell her about the kind of maneuvers you took the guys on to practice their skills," he explained.

"I'm happy to tell her about what I've been doing if you think it will help," I assured him. Then I looked down at my RangeMan uniform and realized all I had to wear was this, jeans, and the black dress I'd worn on our date a few nights before, none of which seemed appropriate for trying to woo back a disgruntled client.

As if sensing what I was thinking, he said, "Go shopping and get whatever you need."

When he moved his hand to reach for his back pocket, I put my hand on his wrist and said, "Is your back sore?"

"No," he replied, not taking the easy way out of this conversation as he continued the progress to his wallet.

"Then you need to stop what you're about to do," I attempted to thwart him again.

"Relax Babe," he said pulling out a piece of paper with something written on it. "I thought you might appreciate a list of stores relatively close by that might have the kinds of clothes you'll want to look at."

My face instantly felt warm, and I knew I was blushing for having assumed he was trying to pay for my clothes. I took the list and looked at the four names, only recognizing one but more than willing to try them all since I had the excuse of needing to shop for work-related purposes.

"Cal, guess what we get to do," I said, waving the paper in front of me.

"You get to shop," he said without a great deal of enthusiasm. "I get to watch your back and carry your packages."

We began to make our way out of the garage when Ranger called out to me and ruined the mood, "Don't forget to use your company card for everything you buy today."

I spun around and told him, "I am perfectly capable of buying my own clothes!"

"Of course you are, but these are for work, and I told you when you agreed to train the guys that the card you were given was to provide you with everything you needed, and your clothes are included in that," he calmly replied.

"But I may get other things that don't make sense on a corporate card," I pointed out. I was willing to let him buy one suit, but if I saw anything else I wanted today, it was all going to be on me.

"Let me do this," Ranger tried pleading with me.

Pulling out the only argument I thought would end this completely, I said, "There's no way your corporate accountant is going to accept ten sets of sexy panties as a corporate expense."

Ranger grinned, obviously amused. "Babe, the RangeMan accountant is my big brother, Antonio, and I would love nothing more than to see him stew over the fact that my woman wears sexy panties. If there's a way to get the picture on the receipt of what you buy, I'd love it even more."

How was I supposed to keep a stern, angry face when he was saying things like that? I had an older sister, and the urge to one-up her was genetically ingrained in me. I had to assume Ranger and Antonio were hard-wired the same way.

"But I'd have to face him at some point," I pointed out, "so you just shot yourself in the foot, mister. Because now I'll only get things that my conscience will allow me to know that your brother is aware of. So, if you were hoping for something that only you got to see appearing in my wardrobe later, that's absolutely not going to happen."

He blinked a few times, his face not registering a response one way or the other, and then he said the most curious thing. "I think there's something to be said for you being able to make these decisions for yourself. The card is at your disposal. Please use it as much, or as little, as you'd like. If I seemed too pushy earlier, I assure you, I've now seen the error of my ways."

Was that an apology? Did I just win an argument with Ranger and get a semi-public admission of that? As much as I loved the idea of winning, I felt the need to protect his image in front of the guys that were busy pretending they weren't listening to every word between us.

"I think we both know I get a little stubborn from time to time, so I will find something suitable for the meeting tomorrow and use my card to get it. Everything I pick up after that I'll have to consider on a piece by piece basis."

A hint of a smile came over his face at that. "Feel free to send me a picture of any of the pieces you're considering if you need a second opinion."

Since I started laughing at his response, I decided to leave while I still had a little pride intact.

Cal bumped into me as I walked past him. I doubted he was suddenly that uncoordinated, so I looked at him and saw a huge grin on his face, completing some kind of facial expression yin/yang with the serious skull on his forehead.

"What?"

"So you and the boss…"

I felt like there was a question there, but I refused to speculate exactly what he wanted to know.

Using my silence skill set that had been recently developed paid off again, as he added, "I mean, I know he's been doing the touchy feely thing, but that sounded like you two are pretty solid if you can joke like that and nobody got pissed."

He'd made a good point. Joe and I had had many break-ups over arguments that began as harmless comments made in fun that somehow struck a chord and ended up with hand gestures and past grievances both flying around. I made a shoulder roll gesture, intended to deflect his comment because I wasn't really sure how to discuss what Ranger and I shared. It was great, it was exactly what I'd always dreamed about, but it was impossible to talk about because I didn't have an easy way to describe it.

"I've known him a lot of years," Cal volunteered as we walked away from RangeMan, "and I've never seen him as relaxed as he is around you. Whatever's happening is a good thing."

Seriously, did these guys have any idea how unnerving it was when they said things like that? I mumbled out, "Thanks," knowing it wasn't the right response but really not sure what else to say. "Wow, I'm so glad people can see it makes him relaxed because I'm beyond the moon happy and having your approval means a lot to me since you guys are important to both of us," didn't seem appropriate.

"Strangely, I hadn't expected the personality reversal transplants, though," Cal continued talking. "I mean, he's transformed into this verbose guy that smiles a lot, and you seem to be talking less and less and looking away from us more often. What's up with that?"

My head spun around to see Cal better and was relieved to see him smiling at me.

"I'm just teasing," he said once he had my attention. "I'm glad you're both happy."

I decided to use his technique for communication and bumped into his arm with my shoulder.

"All right, there's no reason to abuse your shadow," he attempted to complain before hailing a cab and telling the driver where to take us.

I spent the next four hours having a marvelous time shopping in two private boutiques that carried mid and upscale ladies clothing. Everything in the stores seemed exquisite, and I found eager clerks in both stores to help me. In the end, I had three new suits, two of which ended up on my corporate card, but the last one was all mine. I decided to foot the bill at the second store myself because their lingerie department was like putting a kid in a toy store. They had some of my favorite lines, and they had such an extensive stock that I had trouble controlling myself.

When I'd seen the money that RangeMan had been automatically depositing in my checking account since I started working with the guys, I had thought to myself I could make a sizable donation to my nieces' college funds, but after finding this store, I decided that was something that could wait. They still had years before either of them would even be in high school, and this lingerie would serve a purpose right now – tonight, if I played my cards right.

With that mental justification done, I walked out as the proud new owner of eight new sets of undergarments and four teddies. I couldn't wait for tonight to try out something new and to see what kind of reaction Ranger had to my afternoon of shopping.

Since we were only eight blocks from RangeMan, we decided to walk back. Well, Cal suggested it, and I went along with it because he seemed to really want to be outside, and he'd been so patient while I was shopping that I felt like I owed him.

About halfway there, my cell phone rang, so I answered it without looking and was surprised to hear Hal's voice on the other end.

"Stephanie, thank goodness you answered," he blurted out, as though the world was coming to an end and I was his only hope of saving the planet Earth.

"Hal, calm down and tell me what's going on," I attempted to reassure him, but by using those words to calm down one of the Merry Men, I put another of them on high alert.

Cal shielded me with his body, somehow seeming to expand in size so that he felt broader and taller than he had a few moments earlier. He guided me into a coffee shop and kept pushing until my back was in a corner and he was using his chest as a shield to protect me.

Eventually, I put my hand over the receiver to muffle what I was saying and told Cal, "Everything is fine. He's just panicked. At least let me sit down."

I could tell he wasn't happy about it, but he did point to a chair, which I promptly sat in, and then he moved a second seat to continue blocking my way so that most people couldn't see me behind the tower of black clothes. Knowing it was the best I was going to get until I fully understood what was going on and explained it to him, I attempted to ignore Cal and focus on the phone instead.

Hal was talking, so I tried to get up to speed. "I took her out, just like we talked about, and everything went fine, but now she wants me to be her escort for this ball thing, and I don't know how to do it."

"It's just like a date, except you're dressed up," I pointed out, not seeing the problem.

"But you have to dress up as a character from a book, and the suggestions she's made have all been costumes I'm not sure would allow me to hide all my weapons," he complained.

"Then lock up a few weapons for the night," I recommended, not sure why he was making this so difficult.

"I can't do that and keep her safe at the same time," Hal disagreed, as though librarians were on the list of most likely targets for terrorists.

"It's a library fundraiser," I reminded him, "Not some hot spot of unrest where you need to be ready to fight off a small militia."

"There will be a crowd there," Hal changed tactics. "She said that the board for the library has tried to raise the profile of the event and gotten some big names to attend so they've had to change venues and redo the whole scale to make room for everybody. In that kind of setting, anything could happen."

Sometimes, it was more important to admit when you couldn't change someone's mind than it was to keep chipping away at their arguments, so I switched tactics. "Then why don't you go as someone who would be allowed to wear weapons as a part of their uniform?"

There was a long enough pause that I repeated his name to be sure the call hadn't dropped. Then he finally said, "I haven't read a lot lately; who could I be that would allow me to be armed?"

Of all the people he should be asking this question, I was the least likely to have a decent suggestion. I decided to try faking it and said, "There are lots of leading men who would wear suits or uniforms of different styles so that you could hide your weapons easily. Then there are others who would have weapons on them. Why don't you talk to her about why you need to dress a certain way and see if she'll help you pick something you're comfortable with?"

"But isn't that likely to scare her if I tell her that I need a different costume to cover the two guns and a knife I always carry?"

Was there something in the RangeMan contract that required that exact amount of defense at all times?

"It's a lot less likely to scare her if you tell her in the context of needing it for your job than it is if she discovers you're that armed on her own," I warned him.

"How would she discover it on her own?" he wondered. "My second piece is usually strapped at the ankle where she couldn't see it, and on a date, I keep my primary out of sight as well in a social setting."

"Assume the date went really, really well," I attempted to lead him along. "And she was helping you out of your standard cargoes…"

"You mean if we had sex?" he asked, making me wonder how inexperienced Hal was.

"That's exactly what I mean." Apparently a certain amount of candor was going to be necessary to make this point.

"Then I'd have to undress so that she couldn't see anything," he said as though he expected the lights to be off and her to be every bit the stereotypical librarian, quiet and reserved.

"Let me fast-forward this conversation to save us both some trouble," I leveled with him. "Tell her about your job. She knows me; she knows what you do because I already told her when I asked about you working there that morning. Give her a few more details to explain why you feel the need to keep your weapons with you at all times. Then quickly ask her to help you pick a character that will help you cover up what you need to have on you."

"Do you think she'll decide I'm not worth the fear factor that comes with dating an armory?" he asked, sounding so insecure that I doubted he would have the courage to ask if we'd been face to face.

There was a piece of me that wanted to hunt down the women who had hurt these men, making them feel like they needed to hide a huge part of who they were in order to find someone to date. "Hal, you need to listen to me and listen well. You are a good man – a strong, honorable, decent guy who any woman should be thrilled about dating. You need to give her a chance to see this for herself now before you invest any more time in this and let her know the real you. Holding this part of you back will only blow up in your face later because she'll feel like you lied to her. And if you're worried about her running away in fear, then why not go ahead and get that over with now instead of letting it hang over your head for months while you get to know her? Besides, I know her, and I think you're overthinking this. She's open minded, and I think you'll find her pretty accepting as long as you're up front about it."

"You're sure?" he asked one more time.

I shut my eyes and let out a long breath before replying. "Positive."

"All right, I'll call her and see if we can get together tonight, and I'll fill her in on everything," Hal promised. "Can I call you later if she says something confusing?"

"You can call me anytime," I assured him. "You should know that by now."

He thanked me before hanging up, and then I shut my phone down and looked up at Cal.

"You're something else, you know that, right?"

I laughed at his attempt at a compliment. "Yes, but nobody knows exactly what the something else is."

"We know," he told me, appearing to be completely serious.

"We?" I wasn't sure if he was now referring to himself in the plural, which was going to make me really uncomfortable if he was the guy assigned with the task of protecting me.

"All the guys," he explained, helping me to relax a little. "We know that you're amazing, not only because of everything you do but because of how accepting you are of who _we_ are. The fact that you just dropped everything to give one of us a pep talk is huge."

Being the center of attention wasn't a comfortable place for me, so I tried to turn it around and told him, "Honestly, I just like to play matchmaker whenever I get the chance. Talking to Hal about his love life may have made him feel like he needed a mild tranquilizer, but it was loads of fun for me."

"Say what you want"—he was obviously seeing right through me—"but I know the truth."

"Is there a code of confidentiality between bodyguard and bodyguardee like there is between a doctor and patient?" I asked.

Cal laughed at my made up word and shook his head no. "Not officially, but between you and me, I can promise that my lips are sealed. Unless something happens that the guys need to know about regarding your safety, nothing that you do while I'm shadowing is going to be disclosed."

"Nothing?" I pushed. "Not even the extra time I spent trolling the lingerie section?"

"Not even the little black number that I'm pretty sure is thin enough to be completely see through," he teasingly promised, letting me know he'd seen a lot more than I gave him credit for. Cal was obviously proficient at blending in but not missing a thing.

I held up my hand so that my smallest finger was extended toward him. "Pinky swear?"

He laughed and shook his head no. "Pinkies can be broken," he told me, grabbing my hand like we were going to arm wrestle and holding onto me tightly. "My word is my bond, and I promise to not only protect your life but your secrets, too, when we're together."

I looked in his eyes and saw the truth of what he was saying. I wouldn't have doubted him anyway, just because the guys didn't lie to me. But seeing the seriousness on his face now only forced that truth home even more.

"Thanks," I managed to get out before my throat tightened up even more with emotion.

He let go of my hand and sat back, crossing his arms over his chest. "Now that we've cleared that up, any chance you'll tell me what had Hal up in arms."

I grinned and shook my head. "No, but you can help me carry these bags back to the office while we talk about why you aren't currently in a relationship."

He made a noise that let me know he wasn't happy about something, but I didn't know if it was having to carry my bags or the fact that I'd turned the tables on him and was asking him to talk about his private life. Either way, it was fun to have him on edge.

When we got back, it was nearly time for dinner, so I went straight up to seven and sent Ranger a text.

_Just got back and am up on seven. Want to eat in tonight so I can show you what I bought?_

Just to sweeten the deal, I laid out one of the teddies on the bed and took a picture of the little white number that was basically lace held together with little ties.

Then I attached that and wrote, _I'd__ even model it for you if can come up soon_.

I hit send and began to hang up the suits, disappointed that he wasn't texting me back. Before I could get too far with the feeling of letdown, I heard the beeping of the door and waited for Ranger to walk in. His keys hit the dish on the table in the entryway, and his boots sounded as he stalked across the floor with purpose and speed.

I met him at the door of the bedroom and attempted to raise an eyebrow, crossing my arms in front of me as though waiting for him to explain his hurry.

"Tell me I got here in time for the show," he said with a mischievous grin.

"Did you just walk out of your office?" I wondered what state his work was in if he'd basically stood up when he got my message and come straight upstairs.

Ranger shook his head no and said, "I walked out of a strategy meeting for a takedown tonight," he said, surprising me.

"What did the guys say?" I blurted out, curious as to what kind of response he'd gotten.

"Les might have seen your text," Ranger admitted softly, "At least, I think he saw the picture when I maximized it to full screen... He was trying to laugh without making a sound when I stood up, but the rest of them carried on. They don't need me to do this operation, and it's a small dollar pick up even if they fail."

"So I won out over an operations meeting?" I teased him a little.

"Babe, you win out over any meeting," he promised, pushing a curl back away from my face.

"You realize the guys know we're going to be up here having sex," I pointed out, not sure if I liked the idea of everyone knowing what we were doing.

That comment earned me a small laugh. "Trust me; they all assume that's what we're doing anytime we're together. My actions five minutes ago were only a little additional fuel for the fire."

I considered that and briefly wondered why he was so confident that was what they all assumed we did up here anytime we were together.

Ranger must have realized where my mind was because he cut me off and said, "They all know how completely irresistible you are, and they know that if you were theirs, that's what they would want to happen."

That was a good explanation because it wasn't based so much on how we've been behaving as it was about how they wish they could behave. While I was mulling over the semantics, Ranger's mind must have moved somewhere else entirely.

"I'm going to open a bottle of wine and pour us both a glass. Why don't you put on that little white thing you sent me a picture of and come give me the show I believe I was promised," he murmured, running just the tips of his fingers up the bare portion of my arms.

"I don't remember promising it blindly. I believe I said you had to earn it by getting up here quickly," I reminded him, feeling like playing with him a little.

"Was I not fast enough?" He seemed surprised that I wanted to argue that point.

I pretended to mull it over before saying, "I think I can consider your end of the bargain met enough to fulfill my portion."

"Let me help to motivate you a little more," he taunted me, tracing my collarbone through my shirt. "You put on the outfit, and I'll go relax in the big easy chair. Then whenever you're ready, I'll be glad to sit back and let you call the shots for the rest of the night."

"So I'm in charge?" I pushed a little, loving the idea.

"Completely," he agreed, obviously not minding handing over the power.

"No matter what I want, you'll go along with it, without having to negotiate anymore?" I asked, shivering from the sensation of his hand still tracing designs on me through my shirt.

"As long as it can involve you in the white nightie or you in absolutely nothing, then I'm game for whatever you want," he promised.

I spun around and ran into the bathroom, grabbing the teddy on the way. If I was going to get a few fantasies fulfilled tonight, then I was ready to get the evening started as soon as possible. I had a lot of leftover energy from such an easy shopping trip, and I had an endless supply of ideas for how to use a willing Ranger to make this night unforgettable.


	17. Snip and Rip

_JE created the characters below. I created the mess they're in._

_Jenny (JenRar) thank you for your hard work as the beta on this story. Your skills and enthusiasm are an inspiration to improve my skills._

**Chapter 17 – Snip and Rip**

I don't know why I was nervous, but sitting in the conference room as Ranger introduced Mrs. Connelly to the new leadership team in New York, I found myself hoping that he didn't regret including me in the group she was meeting.

After the introductions were finished, Ranger got right to business. "Thank you for agreeing to meet with me today. I really appreciate the chance to talk with you personally."

She gave the kind of smile that one has when they are truly comfortable with who they are. I envied her in ways that had nothing to do with her perfect figure and her suit that cost more than my rent for a month or two. "As I told you on the phone, I did not wish you any ill will but felt that you deserved to know what had been done in your name. After hearing my husband speak of you for years, I struggled to believe you would have approved of what occurred."

"You are right that I would not have approved, and your willingness to disclose the truth gave me the chance to address it quickly and appropriately. I wanted to share what my response had been to show you that your words made a difference and that it is my intention that this type of disaster not occur again," Ranger explained, managing to pull off sincere regret and complete control at the same time.

Ranger spent the next fifteen minutes giving Mrs. Connelly a high level description of Manuel's former leadership of this office and his breakdown that his physicians now believed was due to a form of post traumatic stress. While he wasn't attempting to use that as an excuse, he was trying to give her the full picture of why Manuel had reacted the way he did. I noticed Ranger didn't mention the other half of the problem with Cruz attempting to destroy his business. It was one thing to admit there was a problem internally, but to open himself up about an enemy trying to take him down was more disclosure than Ranger would allow.

She listened attentively, nodding to indicate that he continued to hold her interest. After outlining what he'd discovered in the office here, he began to describe the steps he'd taken with the leadership team. He explained about the new training program for working on those subtle skills of security that would allow his men to provide a presence without overwhelming the setting. After speaking of the technical parameters, he turned to me and suggested that I share a sampling of the exercises I'd run with the team in Trenton.

I cleared my throat, trying to decide if I should attempt to draw on the experience I had in business to continue the very professional front Ranger was maintaining. At the last minute, I decided to try to appeal to this woman on an emotional level.

"I was charged with trying to run the men through real-life scenarios that would mimic the types of assignments they may be assigned as we gain more clients with families or needs of a personal nature." The expression on Mrs. Connelly's face told me she was interested but not engaged, so I made it more personal. "To do this, I tried to imagine what I would need a security presence for and how I would want them to appear in public. For example, I borrowed my nieces and had one of the guys attempt to protect them in an open playground without drawing attention to themselves."

As I said that, I glanced at Lester, who smiled. "I had another shadow me as I went shopping, working with them to walk the fine line between watching my back without interfering in my ability to get the assistance of a good sales clerk."

This time, Mrs. Connelly nodded, letting me know she understood what I was attempting to do.

"I took one to a funeral viewing to keep two women separated who could have created a scene if they'd run into each other, and another, I gave the task of bringing down a criminal at a public library without drawing any unwanted attention to what they were doing."

Her eyes got bigger at the mention of Hal's assignment.

"Basically, I tried to cover every base from the safety of young children, teenagers on a date, women out with friends, and public events to be sure that our men could provide not only a secure environment but a comfortable one, as well."

She smiled when I gave my summary and then asked, "Have you tried any large events, such as a party with a group of your men?" She seemed genuinely curious. "It's one thing to work efficiently by yourself, but to do the same thing in a group would be very different."

My mind went blank temporarily, and then I had a brilliant flash. "We haven't done that yet, but a large ball is being held in Trenton in two weeks, where a group of men will be attending as guests but also to provide security. That will be a good test of how they work in a group without drawing attention to themselves."

Her forehead wrinkled as much as her chemically induced smooth skin would allow, and she asked, "Two weeks? What is the event?"

"The public library has an annual gala, and we will be attending. It has historically been a small event with roughly a hundred people in attendance, but the board has put intentional effort into growing the size this year, receiving commitments from many prominent people, allowing for our services to be useful," I explained, hoping I could reach Stella to volunteer the RangeMan services and purchase a large number of tickets so that I could make good on what I was currently promising.

Mrs. Connelly smiled and said, "My husband and I will be attending that event. I don't usually travel there, but he has friends in the area, and our daughter is a big proponent of the importance of keeping public libraries open even in a digital age, so she asked us to come up and attend on her behalf."

"Then I look forward to seeing you there," I said, glad that my nerves at being called out for stretching the truth weren't evident in my voice.

She then embarked on a brief side conversation about how difficult it had been to select the character she wanted to represent and went through several of her thoughts. I tried to keep up as her excitement about the costume portion of the ball began to show through her initial pulled together persona. After ten minutes, she seemed to catch herself and stopped rather abruptly.

"I'm sorry about that," she apologized, pulling herself back together from how relaxed she had become. "I look forward to seeing you all there."

Then she turned back to face Ranger and said, "I'll be watching at the ball to see how visible your men are. I know that it's possible to keep a cover for the evening, but over the course of several hours, if you can maintain a steady presence without overwhelming the event, then I would be most impressed."

Ranger nodded to acknowledge what had been said and then leaned forward to make his next point. "You made it perfectly clear that you would not call on my company again for any security needs you had in the future, but I wanted to put your mind at ease that if your friends decide to use us, we are doing what is necessary to ensure they receive the right level of service. I also wanted to thank you for the time you put into writing that letter. As hard as it was to read, I needed to know what happened, and if you hadn't been honest enough to tell me, I never would have known."

She paused for a moment, as though reviewing everything he'd just said. "I have to say none of this is what I expected when I agreed to meet with you. I should have known after thirty-five years of marriage that my husband was an excellent judge of character and that if he said you were the best, that had to be true. I will be watching at the gala, and if all goes well there, I may have to revisit my statement in that harshly-written letter. Any man in your position that can admit something went wrong and take the steps you have to correct it deserves a second chance."

Ranger stood up and held his hand over the table to shake hers. "Thank you, Mrs. Connelly, for taking the time to meet with us today and for listening as we explained what we've done to prevent your experience from happening again."

She nodded at his words, with that small head gesture that regal woman pull off that says they accept what you are saying without having to use any words. Then Mrs. Connelly turned to me and said, "Now, dear, if you are going to be there as well, you simply must ask around town to find out what the other ladies are going to wear so that I can come up with someone original."

I rode down the elevator with her and was surprised at how relaxed she was when it was just the two of us. I supposed women are women, and no matter how much your shoes may cost, if you are good hearted, it comes across when you talk about what to wear.

I promised to find her at the ball and held the door open for her to exit to the waiting limo parked in front of the building. She waved goodbye just before climbing into the car and disappearing behind the darkened window.

As soon as her car pulled away, I ran back to the elevator, glad it was still sitting at the ground floor, and then impatiently waited for the doors to open on five. When I stepped out, the guys seemed to be celebrating our success with Mrs. Connelly, so I stepped into Ranger's office, assuming he wouldn't mind me using his phone.

"Trenton Public Library, this is Stella," came the voice of my friend and the exact person I was hoping to speak to.

I jumped into what I needed to warn her about and asked if RangeMan could purchase nine tickets to have myself and eight of our guys practice their skills of securing a venue without drawing attention to what we were doing.

She laughed and said, "So you want permission to be there in a professional capacity at no cost to the library, and you're willing to buy the tickets to help me meet my sales quota?"

"That sounds right," I replied.

"Done. I'll stick them in the mail once I get your check," she said with a laugh. Then she stopped chuckling, as though something serious had just occurred to her. "I got a call from Hal last night, and he said you suggested he talk to me."

Wow, I had no idea he'd act that quickly. "I did tell him that. I hope it was all right."

"He's good-looking, he a perfect gentleman, he has a thing about wanting to be honest with me, he knows when to reach out for help, and he takes good advice when he hears it." She was summing up most of the guys at RangeMan really well. "The fact that he is able to keep me safe no matter what might happen when we're together is just icing on the cake as far as I'm concerned. Why was he worried about how I'd react?"

I had to let her in on the bits and pieces I'd picked up from my time with the guys and tell her how many women saw them as either conquests or goons, but very few considered them real family material. She seemed as confused and pissed about that as I was. "I've got some friends coming to the gala, so if there are any more like Hal, be sure to point them out, and we'll see if we can't manage to introduce them."

After promising to get a list to her of who would be attending, including a mini bio that I now assumed I'd have to type up so that she could spend her down time at the library playing cupid, I finally hung up. I spun the desk chair back around to put the phone on the cradle and nearly screamed at the sight of Ranger sitting in the guest chair, patiently waiting for the use of his office.

"I assume we're all set to provide the security presence we just promised to Mrs. Connelly," he guessed based on what he'd overheard.

"Yes, I've promised to buy nine tickets, so we need to get the leadership team briefed to go to the party," I said. "Maybe I can consider this a final test for all of them, and then my assignment will be completely over, thus completing my negotiated duties with you and requiring you to pay up the rest of what you owe me."

Ranger nodded and crooked his index finger, indicating he wanted me to come to him.

I shook my head no, earning me a raised eyebrow as a challenge. "I think I like sitting in the boss's chair. It's comfy."

He was about to respond, but Touchy showed up in the doorway, looking at a file and talking at the same time. "Hey, boss, I just got the confirmation that the package you sent to Bolivia arrived there mostly in one piece on the jet yesterday."

I couldn't help myself as I responded, "That's good news. Thanks for passing it along."

Touchy's head jerked up, and he looked shocked to see me sitting in Ranger's chair.

"If you want to run the show, you've got to learn to be more aware of your surroundings," I warned him, getting a laugh from Ranger.

Not able to resist, I threw in, "Consider that little training exercise a freebie."

"I think we both know that I honor all my commitments," Ranger countered, still smiling at me surprising one of his men. He held out his hand for Touchy to place the folder he'd been studying so carefully before the man spun around and practically ran out of the office.

"What was the package that was mostly in one piece?" I asked, immediately kicking myself for being so nosey about what he'd shipped off on his own private jet. I knew there were some things Ranger couldn't tell me, and pushing just because my curiosity got the better of me was a great way to scare him off.

"I don't scare that easily," Ranger said, making me second guess myself. I had my hand over my mouth, so I didn't think I'd said anything in my out loud voice, but I guess there was no way to be sure. "The package was one Hannibal Cruz."

"You sent him to a third world country!" I exclaimed. "You really do that?" I'd heard the guys joke about it, but I didn't realize they were serious.

"Bolivia isn't really considered third world, Babe," he corrected only that part of my statement, leaving me to stew over my other question that he'd left unanswered.

"Why did you send him there?" I wondered.

"I leaned on him here for long enough that I was confident I'd gotten all his full motivation. He was greedy and stupid enough to think he could challenge me and win if he used one of my men as his go between. With me out of the way in New York, he planned on branching out his business to include some less legal areas, figuring he'd be more likely to get away with it if no one was around to challenge him. So after knocking him around for a bit, I realized there was nothing else he could give me, so I shipped him back to Bolivia. He spends time there anyway; I just delivered him into the hands of a family that has wanted to have…a conversation with him. I owed them a favor, and I believe they'll end his life when they're done with him, so it handles the problem of him deciding to get back at me. Just to be sure, I had Homeland Security add him to a watch list so that he can't enter the country under his own identity."

"Why do you think this family kill Cruz?" I asked, not sure if he would say any more, since he'd already shared so much.

"He hurt their daughter in a way that fathers don't easily forgive. There's been a price on his head for three years now, but the circle this family travels in isn't even close to the one Cruz has been protected by when he's been there in the past," Ranger told me. "They allowed me to hide out on their property when I was in danger a few years ago. They said there wasn't a debt, but I like to keep my account clear anyway so that I know I'd be welcome there if I ever needed to be again. Knowing I delivered them the man they most wanted will put them at my service, which is how I prefer to operate."

"Outcome engineer?" I quoted Tank, wondering if it fit in this case.

Ranger smiled and replied, "Something like that. I just prefer to keep the deck stacked in my favor."

"Remind me not to play cards with you," I responded with a grin.

"Come on, Babe," he attempted to argue, "A few snacks, a fresh deck of cards, and a night of strip poker could make for a great way to spend the evening."

Before I could respond, Lester walked in and announced, "I couldn't agree more. What time should we come up?"

"Do you have no sense of self-preservation?" Ranger asked the man who was grinning in his doorway.

"Yes, but I have an even greater sense of fun, and what you described is my idea of a fun night," Les replied, as though he weren't the least bit afraid for his life. "So when do you want us to show up, and what can I bring?"

"A body bag, if you're dumb enough to knock on my door tonight," Ranger dead-panned, not giving the impression that he was joking.

Bobby ambled in behind his usual partner in crime and said, "Stephanie can't do anything right now. She's got an appointment with Needle in the med center for him to take those stitches out of her leg."

"Why can't you do it?" I blurted out, sounding panicked.

"I could," Bobby answered calmly, "but this way, he can record this as a supervised activity for his log since I'll be there too to monitor what he's doing."

"Why does he need to be supervised?" I wondered, not sure if he was saying Needle was a trainee medic.

"Uncle Sam considers him just as qualified as I am, but he's not got the number of hours I do under his belt, and our company policy states the core team only gets worked on by senior medics," Bobby explained.

"You okay with Needle doing it?" Ranger asked, obviously more than willing to demand Bobby do it himself if I wasn't comfortable.

"You'll be there?" I asked, even though he'd already answered that question. When Bobby nodded, I stood up and moved around the big desk I'd been seated behind.

Ranger grabbed my hand to get my attention. "If everything goes okay with your leg, I was hoping to go back to Trenton in the morning. Is there anything else you want to do while we're in New York?"

In truth, I had planned on staying only as long as he was here. I wasn't interested in conquering the city; I just wanted to be with Ranger. If he was ready to go home, I wasn't going to stop the progress.

"When I'm done with Needle, I'll go upstairs and pack," I told him before teasing a little, "so that we have our evening free for more enjoyable things."

The grip on my hand tightened when I said the last part, and then Ranger jerked his head around to look at Bobby and said, "You do the stitches."

"Man, Needle can do it," Bobby argued.

"Don't care," Ranger cut him off. "I don't want anything to interfere with her plans for the remainder of her day, including some trainee pulling too hard or ripping the wound open. You do it."

Bobby let out a long breath but knew better than to disagree with Ranger on this. "Come on, Bomber." He sounded resigned to having to tell Needle this wasn't going to be his day to do something medically related.

Downstairs, I couldn't believe how much better the medical suite looked now that they'd cleaned and restocked it. "Wow, you guys, this is like stepping into the ER," I announced when we walked in.

"Thanks," Needle replied, making a note in a folder and then shutting it to greet me at the table.

"Hey, man, Boss's orders are that I do the snip and rip today," Bobby informed his New York counterpart.

"Whoa," I jumped in. "What do you mean, snip and rip?" Bobby had taken out plenty of stitches for me, and I'd never considered what he did to be ripping.

"Just a little medical humor," Needle said, not having the same size grin he'd had earlier.

"What's wrong?" I asked, grabbing his shirt sleeve to keep him from walking away.

"It's kind of an honor to get to do something for you, and I was looking forward to saying that even though Bobby was your go-to medic, you let me help out when you were in my house," he admitted in a rare show of blunt honesty.

I carefully pulled up the bottom of my skirt to be sure I didn't get it high enough to show off anything but still gave them room to get to the stitches, which were beginning to itch a little. "You can do it," I told him, sorry that I'd made such a big deal out of it upstairs.

"Really?" he asked, looking like a kid that had been told Christmas had been reinstated after hearing it had been called off.

Before I could assure him it was okay, Bobby popped our bubble. "No, the boss said I had to, and even though I appreciate what you're trying to do, I can't go against Ranger."

"Because you plan on telling Ranger all about my injuries and sharing all the details with him, even the ones I consider to be private?" I decided to get Bobby on my side the only way I knew how.

"Of course not," he contradicted me immediately. "You know I'd never betray your confidence like that."

"Oh, then you mean Ranger is the one in charge of my body, and since he owns the building, he has the right to dictate my medical care, even if it goes against my wishes?" There was one thing I knew would hit a nerve, and this was it.

"You know that I consider your body to be your business and nobody else has the right to tell you what you can or cannot do to it. If you're unconscious, Ranger holds your medical power of attorney, so he calls the shots, but if you're awake, then you do," he corrected me, getting worked up.

"Then I am telling you privately, as the medical professional who respects my privacy, that I want Needle to carefully take out these things. And if I'm really the one in charge of my own body, then that shouldn't be a problem, right?" I asked again, knowing that he couldn't really disagree with me on any moral grounds.

"But Ranger gave an order," he feebly put out there.

"Do you have a speaker phone down here?" I decided a change in tactics was in order.

"Sure," Needle replied, pointed to a phone mounted on the wall.

"Dial up Ranger's extension," I said, loving the way he quickly moved to follow my directions. I wasn't even on staff here, but he treated me like a mini-Ranger.

"What's wrong?" Ranger sounded panicked when he answered.

"Everything's fine," I spoke, realizing that a call from the medical office when he knew I was being treated probably made his mind go to a worst case scenario. "I just need your help."

"Name it," he replied, obviously relaxing after hearing from me directly.

"I want Needle to take out these infernal stitches, but Bobby won't let him because of your order," I pointed out.

"That's what you want?" he asked to clarify.

"Yes." I figured short, simple answers would serve me best here.

"Then why are you asking me? It's your body, your comfort level. Why aren't they respecting that? Do you need me to come down there?"

Usually, I would swear that I didn't have any extra sensory gifts, and then moments like this happened, when it was as though I'd planted exactly what I wanted him to say in his mind for him to parrot back.

"Got it, Boss," Bobby replied with a smirk.

"Thank you," I added before Needle disconnected the call.

"Smartass," Bobby added, grinning at me.

Needle rubbed his hands together and grabbed a rolling tray to bring it over to my right side while I hopped up on the table.

"Hands! Man have you lost your ever-loving mind?" Bobby barked out, as though he were a drill sergeant and poor Needle was in medic basic training.

"I was going to wash them," he defended.

"After you touched the materials you were going to use?" Bobby pointed out his mistake. "So you were going to clean your hands once you'd already contaminated everything that was going to touch her."

"I got ahead of myself because I was excited," Needled confessed.

"Excited?" Bobby repeated, sounding confused. "You'd better thank whatever god you pray to that the boss wasn't around to hear you say you were excited about anything to do with Stephanie."

Needle was smart enough to let it go and cleaned his hands twice as long as Bobby did. I figured he was overcompensating for nearly screwing up his first supervised task.

"You have real medic experience?" I asked, hoping if I got him talking that he'd act out of instinct and calm down.

"Yes," he answered, pulling out what he needed from the cabinet and placing it on the tray he'd already moved. "One tour in Iraq, one in Afghanistan, and eighteen private missions," he reported.

"So this isn't the first time you've ever seen stitches," I pointed out, hoping to boost his confidence.

"No way," he answered as he sat on a metal rolling stool and moved to the right spot to work on me. "But it is the first time I've worked on someone with any kind of hope that a scar wouldn't form."

"It wouldn't be my first one," I pointed out. No woman wanted permanent marks on her body, but knowing it came in the effort of saving Ranger's business made it more than worth it.

"Maybe not, but I don't want my first act as the chief down here to be giving you another one," he replied, clipping the first stitch and pulling gently with the tweezers in his hand. He moved quickly and got them all out before setting his tools down, putting some antibiotic ointment on a cotton swab, and rubbing it over the area. Then he touched my leg and manipulated the skin around the wound. "It looks good, nicely healed."

"Thanks," I told him, before adding, "You did well."

Bobby's hands were fisted at his sides, which had me concerned that Needle had missed something important. When he caught me staring at him, he relaxed slightly and said, "I didn't realize how much I'd hate somebody else working on you. It's always been my job, and the idea of somebody else doing it didn't feel right."

I jumped down and moved over to my favorite medic – no offense to the young man who'd done a good job just seconds before. "To be honest, I prefer you to be the guy working on me, too."

That made Bobby grin and Needle frown, so I had to say a little more. "Because when you're done, I get a lollipop, and you know how much I love sucking on things like that, right?"

The metal tray Needle had placed his supplies on hit the floor, and the guy who had appeared so confident seconds before now looked totally undone.

"Plus, you seem to handle pressure a little better," I teased with a final glance at the man now charged with caring for the RangeMan team in New York.

As soon as I walked out the open infirmary door, Ranger pushed off the wall where he'd been waiting for me and held out his hand. "I know how much you like to suck on things," he said, instantly rendering me in the same state as Needle.

"Are you my reward for being good in there?" I asked, going for innocent but coming out in a sex kitten voice so that the effect was totally lost.

"I think we can work something out," he replied, tugging me toward the elevator.

That's just what the doctor ordered – a chance to negotiate again for fun with Ranger.


	18. Payment and Pizza

_JE created the characters below._

_Jenny (JenRar) you are a phenomenal beta. Thank you for all your hard work on this story._

**Chapter 18 – Payment and Pizza**

"What are you working on?" Ranger asked, leaning in to speak quietly at my ear.

We'd been sitting beside each other on the plane, but he'd spent most of his flight talking to Cal and Bobby about the business in New York and transitioning back to Trenton. Now that they seemed to be done, he was curious about what had kept me so quiet.

"I'm trying to type up these training reports so that I can mark off some more guys from my completed list," I replied.

"Who did you run through their paces in New York?" he asked, curious.

"Cal went out as my shadow a couple of times, and Les watched us both in the restaurant, so as far as I'm concerned, I can mark off two more guys and you owe me another card when we get back to Haywood." I hit save and looked up at him, grinning.

"I'll have to review the reports before I'll agree that you're done, but if everything seems to be in order, you know I have no problems maintaining my end of the bargain," he said in a deep, sexy voice.

"And then I have to finish up with Bobby and Tank, and I can see the last card you had made for me," I blurted out.

Ranger shifted to better see my face. "That wasn't the deal," he corrected. "You finish up the last two, and I'll show you two of mine, not the last one for you."

He was right, and we both knew it, but I had foolishly hoped to pull a fast one and confuse him. I should have known better. "All right," I was forced to agree.

Taking advantage of the last minute of wifi on the plane, I emailed the reports to Tank and Ranger and smiled at the thought of seeing another identity created just for me.

When we got back to Haywood, the guys all greeted us on five until Tank told everybody to get back to work. I followed him back into his office to see if he was free tomorrow so that I could finish off his training and get another checkmark closer to completing this task completely. We worked out the logistics, and then I stood up and left his office, intending to go see Ranger.

I realized I was back in Trenton, but because of how things between Ranger and me had changed on the trip, I wasn't sure how to act. In New York, I would have gone into his office and sat on his desk or in his lap to see if he wanted to have dinner together tonight, but somehow, being around the guys we saw all the time, I wasn't sure how to act.

"Are you coming in, or are you expecting the sheetrock to help you solve the problem you're muttering about?" Ranger asked from his office, alerting me to the fact that my internal debate hadn't been as internal as I'd hoped.

I moved into his office and couldn't believe how it felt both familiar and slightly new.

"Come here, Babe," he told me softly, pushing back from his desk to make it clear that he wanted me in his lap.

Never one to pass up a chance to be close to Ranger, I moved and took the place he'd offered, instantly melting against him just as I did every time he pulled me close.

"What's going on in that head of yours?" he asked, as though he didn't already know.

I couldn't figure out how to explain it without sounding insecure and clingy, both traits that I didn't want and didn't think he'd appreciate.

While I was busy trying to come up with what I wanted to say, he spoke again. "Despite what you may think, I can't actually read minds, so you're going to have to tell me."

His voice sounded a little unsure at the end, so I felt like I had to confess in order to make him feel better. Embarrassing myself because of my own stupidity wasn't something I wanted to do. Blushing because I was stepping out of my comfort zone to help Ranger was all the motivation I needed to open my mouth.

"Now that we're back in Trenton, I'm not sure how to act."

"Why do you have to act any different than you usually would?" He wasn't understanding what I was saying.

"Not in general, but around the office," I threw out, hoping he'd get it then.

"I liked the way we were in New York. Why won't that work here?"

I couldn't tell if he really didn't understand or if he meant for his question to be my answer.

"You've always been reserved about me around the guys here," I tried to explain the difference.

"How was I reserved?" he asked, but before I could answer, he started speaking in his own defense. "When you needed help, I always came. If you were hurt, I got you assistance. If you were in danger, I protected you. When you were alone at the bonds office, I pulled you in the alley and kissed you until I was afraid my control would snap. I may not have pulled you into my lap, but that was just because you weren't mine then and it wasn't my place to do it."

"But I'm yours now." I said it as a fact, but it was just as much a question.

"Oh yeah," he agreed, moving my hair so that he could get to my neck. "After that thing you did last night, you are most certainly mine, and I'm not letting you go." He moved down my neck and bit softly on my shoulder. "In fact, I'm thinking that all the guys here aren't aware of how things have changed between us and I need to get that message out."

"What are you going to do?" I wondered, "Send a memo?"

Admittedly, his mouth was plenty busy, but his lack of response made me think he was seriously considering my fake suggestion. Finally, he pulled back and said, "Why don't we have dinner at Shorty's and invite the guys to come with us? They need to get used to seeing us officially together so they won't be gossiping about it like a bunch of old ladies in the gym."

"The guys gossip?" I couldn't help but question him.

"Why do you think being in the 'Burg never bothered me? I've been around people watching my every move and then trying to figure out what I'm doing for years. Being around the guys was all the prep I needed to get ready for hearing your mother's panic about what her neighbors are going to say when they hear you and I are together and you'll never marry the cop."

The shiver that came over me was more about the feel of the warm breath as he spoke over my shoulder than the fact that he was implying he wanted everyone to know we were in item. Well, it was mostly because of the breath, but there was a part of me that really liked the sound of him wanting my parents' neighbors to know we were together.

I glanced across the office and then reached back and pulled the tie from his hair. In New York, he'd worn in down most of the time, and I'd gotten used to having unlimited access to it. "Your desk here is much smaller than the one in New York."

"This was the first office I opened, and I didn't have much money for furniture. By the time I opened that one, I had a little more for flashy details like huge desks."

As he shared that small detail with me, I realized how much I loved "open Ranger." He'd pulled back only twice since I'd arrived in New York, and even then, he was clear that he wished he could tell me but that it was classified information from a mission and it was out of his hands. Everything else, he'd answered, pulling my heart closer to his with every word.

"Is it sturdy?" I asked, wishing his mind would get on the same track mine was in all of a sudden.

"I didn't have money for flash, but I never buy cheap. It's solid wood and heavy enough I don't want to replace it because I don't want to have to help haul the damn thing out of here," he confessed.

"So, it would hold a substantial amount of weight?" I tried another tactic to get his attention.

"Easily," he replied, his voice getting deep enough that I could feel the vibration of it in my chest. "But I have a meeting or two that will keep us from testing the maximum weight and stress of the wood."

I made a disappointed sound, even though I knew he was right. Then Ranger surprised me by scooting the chair we were sharing so that we were closer to his desk. Before I could ask what he was doing, his hands moved to my waist, making small circles and causing all kinds of warm sensations to begin spreading out across my body. He slowly moved farther around until one hand was at the lowest possible place of my abdomen and the other was pulling my skirt higher so that he could slip his hand between my legs.

"What are you doing?" I whispered.

"I'm taking advantage of the little time we do have," he offered, as though that was actually an answer.

"But the door is open." I couldn't help but point out the obvious.

"Then it falls on you to be quiet so that no one wants to come in." His thumb passed over the bundle of nerves, which were screaming to be touched harder.

"A report…" I started but then lost my voice when he slowly moved a finger inside of me.

"What were you saying?" Ranger prompted when my sentence dropped off.

"Maybe somebody needs to bring you a report and they'll just walk in." I was so proud of myself for getting the whole thought out, and then he added a second finger and I realized I didn't care who walked in, as long as he didn't stop what he was doing.

"Do you want me to stop?" he asked, sounding amused as he quit moving but left the pressure of his hands exactly where they'd been.

"If you stop right now, I'll staple you to the chair and demand you finish what you started," I threatened, knowing it wasn't really possible to staple a person to an office chair but not able to do any better at the moment. I was lucky to have said that much.

More laughter from behind me let me know that he wasn't too worried about being attacked by office supplies being wielded by an overly-horny staff person. "Then you'll have to be very quiet. Can you do that, Babe?"

Could I? Probably not, but if he'd keep doing what he was doing, I was more than willing to try. I nodded, hoping that wasn't admissible as perjury if I ended up screaming out loud.

While his magical fingers continued to move in and around me, I started to feel like I was floating. I tried to keep my eyes open so that if someone walked in, it would be easier to pretend to be paying attention to them, but in truth, I wasn't able to focus on a thing but the sensations Ranger was stirring up in me. He knew exactly how to touch me to bring the maximum pleasure, and right now, he wasn't holding back a thing. I'd done a great job of keeping quiet – until he decided to start talking, as well.

"That's right, Babe. Just relax into me and let me do this for you. You want to know how to act around me? You come to me anytime you want. If you want to say hello, come find me. If you want to have dinner, you only need to let me know, and we'll figure out when and where. And if you want this…" As he said that part, he began to increase the pressure on my clit, slightly pinching it and pressing against me so that my hips began to move. I was riding his fingers, trying to get more friction against me. "If you want this, you only need to come to me, and I'll take you anywhere, any way you want. Because trust me when I tell you that however much you think you want me, I always want you more."

As he said the last part, he thrust his fingers into me one last time, hitting that special spot inside by twisting his wrist and bending his fingers. At the same time, he pinched my clit, and I flew apart. For all I knew, there was a major earthquake in Jersey, because I was positive the earth moved. I felt Ranger's mouth on mine, and the connection to him was all that kept me from passing out, I was sure of it.

My eyes had shut when I came, so when Ranger pulled his lips and fingers from me, I opened my eyes and said the first thing that flew into my head. "You always want me more?"

"Always," he promised, and I smiled.

"Because I think I want you again right now," I said, not sure if I could handle another orgasm from him at the moment but more than willing to test that hypothesis if Ranger wanted to work with me.

He looked at the door and smiled, causing me to turn my head back to see what had caught his attention.

"Why is the door closed?" I wondered, feeling my face go from peach to fuchsia in half a second.

"I can't say for sure, but I think it has something to do with you screaming out 'harder, more' and then referring to me as a deity of sorts before I kissed you to help keep any other compliments just between us," he explained, laughing softly as I attempted to climb into his chest to hide. "Look on the bright side."

"What bright side?" I asked against his shirt, not willing to face him.

He wouldn't allow that, so he moved his hands, straightening my skirt out, and then lifted my chin until I looked in his eyes. "The bright side is that now all the guys know we're together, so you don't have to worry over whether or not I want the office to know. I hope this helped you to see that I don't give a shit who knows you're mine. I just want you to be happy."

I couldn't figure out the proper response to that sentence. It was so open and honest, and quite frankly, my mind still wasn't firing on all cylinders. "So dinner at Shortey's?" I asked, knowing I was abruptly changing the subject but hoping he'd let me get away with it.

"I'll have Santos spread the word to meet there at nineteen hundred hours, and I'll pick you up at quarter 'til seven to go together," he replied, giving me the right time so that I didn't have to do the mental math – something that was way beyond me at the moment. Hell, I was just hoping I could manage to walk in a straight line. "Are you going to be here or at your apartment?"

Was that a trick question? All I wanted to do was take a long nap and then have a hot slice of pizza. Ranger laughed, making me suspect I'd given that information to the enemy. He squeezed me and then said, "Go on upstairs, Babe. Take a nap, and I'll wake you in time to go to dinner."

Nodding, I stood up and straightened my clothes – as though it were possible to hide what we'd just done in here with the soundtrack I'd provided to anyone walking by. I decided to use those skills of denial I'd been carefully building over my lifetime and held my head up high when I opened Ranger's door and stepped out to the main floor.

Tank was in his doorway, so I waved at him and stepped closer when he moved his head to the side, calling me to him.

"I'm glad the trip to New York was successful. It certainly _sounds_ as though you two have worked everything out."

"I liked you better when you didn't talk," I told him, not able to stop myself from smiling.

"Remember, you're the one that thought I needed to work on my communication skills," he replied as I turned to walk away. Before I got too far away, he added, "But for what it's worth, he's a hell of a lot happier than I've seen him in years, and if I have to talk for that to happen, then I can chat about just about anything."

I spun around, still riding my happy endorphins from the orgasm in Ranger's office, and replied, "I don't think it's your mouth that makes him happy, but you can keep talking if you'd like..."

"Snap," Les said, walking up behind me, obviously overhearing what I'd said. "I have to agree, Beautiful. I think it's the things your sweet mouth does that puts the grin—"

Before he could finished, a growled out, "Santos!" rang from the door of Ranger's office. "Mats. You and Tank have an appointment in the morning." He called out a time and then fell silent once more.

Les had the good sense to look embarrassed about what he'd been about to say but didn't offer an apology. It didn't look like Ranger was expecting one, either. The beating he was going to take from Tank would say it all.

Ranger announced the dinner plans we'd made and asked Les to spread the invitation around and let everybody know that dinner and the first dozen pitchers were on him.

"The first dozen?" I asked, trying to figure out how many glasses that would fill. "How many pitchers does it usually take?"

"That depends on why we're drinking," Les said, slinging an arm around my shoulder. "Since I think we're toasting the two of you, then my guess is we'll need at least three times that much."

"It only takes a single glass to make a toast," I pointed out.

"Yes, but some of us will be drinking to get over the disappointment that you'll never be ours," he said, trying to look tragically wounded by that thought and failing miserably.

"Don't worry, Les. You're still my favorite pilot," I told him, meaning every word.

"Yes, and I have a feeling that somewhere out there is a woman, or a small group of women, who would be more than happy to help me get over my heartbreak." He was laughing as he said it.

I broke away when we passed the elevator and went upstairs, glad to have access to the world's most comfortable sheets.

The next thing I was aware of, Ranger was softly rubbing my back and whispering that it was time to get up if I still wanted to meet the guys for pizza. That was the magic word that helped me to force my body off the bed and into the bathroom to quickly pull myself together.

When I walked out, ready to go, I saw that it was only twenty 'til seven, which meant he'd woken me early. I didn't get a chance to ask him why he'd done that because he was sitting on the end of a bed, holding an envelope.

"Here you are," he announced, holding the package out to me. "As agreed, here is another credit card with an alias for you."

There was no point in denying I wanted to see it, so I nearly yanked it from his hands and tried to slit the envelope open with my finger as smoothly as possible. I grabbed the passport and flipped it open to see what appeared to be me, curly hair and all, smiling back at me. The name was Stephanie Pardo.

"How did you come up with the name Stephanie Pardo?" I asked, looking at the rest of the contents and seeing this identity had cash, a credit card, a driver's license, and a gold band. I pulled out the ring and held it up. "What's this?"

"That," he answered taking the ring from my fingers and looking at it, "is the wedding ring that Stephanie's husband Marc has the matching band for."

"Who's Marc?"

"Marc Pardo is one of my aliases. I set it up so that if we both needed to get out of Trenton, we could travel together undetected," he replied, handing me the ring to return to the package.

"How long have you had this one?" I was curious, especially about why he was so hesitant to let go of the ring once I put my fingers on it.

He shrugged. "A year," he replied, not looking at me. "I had it set up when I went on a mission as Marc and had to pretend to be married. I figured if the time ever came that I needed to produce a wife, you would be the only person I'd consider filling that role."

"Because I'm such a good actress?" I teased. Both of us knew I could hold my own at a distraction, but anything past that, my inability to keep the lies straight might be an issue.

The laughter I'd expected didn't come; instead, he remained serious to reply, "No, because I didn't think I could pull off that level of intimacy with anyone but you."

Ranger had this ability to take me from idle to rocket ship blast off in a matter of seconds with just a look, and at the moment, the expression on his face was so vulnerable – so exposed – that it was stirring things in me I didn't understand. Especially since it had happened so quickly I couldn't begin to sort through it all. In the end, I quickly tossed everything back into the envelope and set it on the bed so that I could climb into his lap, straddling his thighs and framing his face with my hands.

"You'd better not try," I warned him, hoping if I attempted to tap into my jealous cavewoman, he'd get the message that I didn't share.

This time, he did laugh. "No worries, Babe. If I thought it would be hard to do before, it's something I wouldn't even attempt now. I told you that I was going to do this right – it was part of why I fought it for so long, because I knew the level of commitment I'd need from you and I'd want to give to you in return. There's not a lot that I'd call myself a traditionalist over, but a commitment to you is one of those things."

"So I can drop my fear over finding you banging Joyce on the dinning room table one day?" I asked, moving my hands to his hair.

The shiver that passed through his body at that comment was enough to make me laugh. "No. On every possible level...no. I'd never cheat. It's not who I am. I value loyalty, and I give it to the same degree. Plus, I have you, so there's nothing else I need. And do I really need to tell you how repulsive the idea of Joyce even being in my apartment sounds?"

"Good answer, Batman," I teased, wanting to keep it light even though what he'd said meant a great deal to me. I knew he was well above banging a skank like Joyce, but theoretically, he could do better than me, so hearing the way he said it meant a lot.

I jumped when Ranger's waist started to vibrate, and he pulled his cell phone up to read a text. When he flipped it around, I saw Les had sent a message.

_Get to Shortey's. You can do that later after you've bought us dinner and gotten us on our way to being drunk._

"Come on," I said, standing up so that Ranger could move. "The natives are getting restless."

He smiled and suggested, "I can send them with my credit card, and they can still have their pizza and buzz on me."

"Tempting," I replied, meaning it. "But we invited them so they could get used to seeing us together, and I'm hungry."

Ranger let me lead him out of the bedroom, pretending to complain. "I'm losing to a pizza. Has the spark worn off already?"

"Absolutely not," I corrected him, not stopping the progress to the elevator. "But we can turn that spark into a full-fledged fire if I have enough energy to keep up. So get me fed, and then we'll see what happens."

"I'll call the order in on the way so your food is waiting when we get there." He gave me a serious look that I knew meant he was only half kidding.

"Are you that anxious to get the dinner over with?"

"Partly. Plus, I want to be sure you have enough. Because if fuel for the fire is all it will take, then I've got a lot of ideas of what to do with all that heat," he responded, now completely serious.

As we stepped out to the garage, I realized there was really no point in going. The guys already heard me screaming in satisfaction this afternoon, and now I was so turned on at the idea of what he had in mind to do with the heat between us that I wasn't sure I could handle being around him in public.

Then I realized I couldn't actually skip out. _Oh well,_ I thought with a sigh. The idea was to let the guys get used to seeing us together, and based on how I was feeling right now, they were about to get a more than what was needed to understand the change in our relationship. This should be the easiest mission I'd ever accomplished.


	19. Costumes and Challenges

_JE created the characters below. _

_Jenny (JenRar) thank you for all the time you put into each chapter. You go well above and beyond as the beta on this story._

**Chapter 19 – Costumes and Challenges**

It was the night of the ball, and I'd decided to go as the Black Widow because she was absolutely kick ass. Also, she dressed in outfits that were incredibly sexy and would allow me to strap on a few guns, which everyone would assume were fake, even though I'd gotten them from the RangeMan armory. It was totally worth sucking in my stomach to zip up the back of my shiny suit when Ranger saw me and allowed his eyes to show the reaction of me and a few strategically placed weapons. "Tonight, I'm taking this off of you, but we aren't going to get rid of it. I'd love a chance to see you in action wearing this get up." If I'd had any doubt about what he thought, the rough sound of his voice when he grabbed my neck and pulled me to him to murmur that in my ear would have proven I didn't have anything to worry about.

I didn't have the heart to tell him I doubted I could provide much action in this costume. Already I was praying that the zipper would hold while I was sitting for the ride to the event. Anything more than bending to get in the SUV might be more stress than it could handle without ripping open.

Of course, as much as he tried to act like he was enamored by the look I was sporting, there were no words to describe my opinion of Ranger in a kilt. I'd thought for sure he'd argue about wearing a costume, but when I'd given him a list of characters that I'd love to see him channeling, he'd looked it over and smiled before saying he had his costume covered. It wasn't until tonight that I'd realized what a mistake that had been. I'd figured he would go for 007 and come in a tux, saying he was James Bond. But Ranger was never that predictable, and when he'd picked me up, I'd nearly tripped over my tongue, which was certainly hanging out of my mouth.

He was wearing some kind of dark tartan, complete with the white shirt, mostly open at the neck, and a wrap diagonally over his chest that matched his kilt. He even had a sword that I had a feeling was for more than just show, and his hair was tied back, completing the Highlander look he was going for. When he mentioned wanting to play later with my costume, I didn't have any trouble telling him I wanted the same chance to see him in this outfit again. He told me if I was good tonight, he'd let me discover for myself what he was wearing under his costume. Knowing his opposition to any form of underwear had me anxious to discover for myself if he was intimately aware of just how breezy it was tonight.

When we got downstairs, I couldn't even pretend not to ogle my guys. I decided since this was the first opportunity I'd had to see them dressed like this, that I had a good enough excuse to stare at them. Lester was in some tight-fitting pants, an open-collared white shirt, and had a red cape tied over his shoulder, claiming to be Don Juan. Tank was doing a pretty impressive imitation of Othello, and Bobby was wearing an eye patch and full length black leather duster, pretending to be Nick Fury – strangely, a companion to my own character. Cal had decided to play on his degree in literature and said he was Ray Bradbury's Illustrated Man. I'd never read the book, so I just grinned and nodded when he explained it to me.

Vince had on a pair of well worn, faded Levi's, a snap up white shirt and cowboy boots. He was holding an impressive looking white hat that finally allowed me to see why people talked about the size of cowboy hats in gallons. I figured he was going for the Lone Ranger, or even Gene Autry, but as far as I was concerned, he only needed a pair of leather work gloves to be the Marlboro Man. I'd never smoked, but I had ripped that ad out of my mother's Better Homes and Gardens when I was fourteen so that I could look at it at night. If Vince ever got injured on the job, he could revive that iconic character in a heartbeat.

I finally found the strength to force my eyes off of Vince and saw that Hector was dressed in his usual gang wear. When I asked who he was supposed to be, he said himself. I started to explain the purpose of the costume portion of the invitation, but he interrupted me to say, "You'll see. It will be okay."

I wasn't sure how to argue with that, so I just kept my mouth shut.

Getting in and out of the SUV proved to be just as difficult as I'd suspected. Luckily, I had Ranger beside me to help make the transition easier. The guys split up and rode in two SUVs, with Tank, Bobby, and Lester in the lead and the others following behind us.

When we got to the gala, I couldn't help but laugh at my friend Stella, who was straightening her dress as she stepped out of the black SUV that Hal had driven her in. He was in a tux, and since I could see the bulge at his back, I knew he was armed enough to be comfortable with Stella on his arm. We'd parked next to them, but they had apparently been in the vehicle long enough to produce a little condensation on the windows. She looked a little dazed, and Hal had a cute-as-a-button blush on his face, but they both attempted to play it cool, like none of us were aware of what they'd been doing in that truck.

I wasn't exactly one to talk. The only thing that had kept me from attacking Ranger in his costume was the fact that my outfit was slightly difficult to get in and out of and I was only willing to go through the process of doing it once. Otherwise, I'd have Hal's blush and I'd be checking my costume just like Stella was.

We walked right into the event, not even having to produce our tickets, which even I recognized as a security risk. I knew libraries weren't really danger magnets, but it still seemed odd for such a large gathering of people with money. I was glad we were here to watch the backs of people with more money than sense and hoped it was unnecessary.

The meeting when I'd announced our attendance at the event hadn't been met with much enthusiasm, but when I'd reminded the guys that this would allow us to restore the opinion of the woman who had begun the whole need for training, they'd seemed to get on board. I was thrilled to see how well they'd gotten into their costumes and was glad that I hadn't had to resort to threatening them to get them here in outfits that would blend in with the theme.

"All right, guys," I said when they all turned to me. "Go try to blend in and at least look like you're having fun. We'll meet up every thirty minutes here to report in." I didn't think it was necessary, but I thought it would help them be more comfortable if I gave this evening a more work-like feel instead of saying pretend to party for four hours straight.

They all nodded and then took off in various directions, as though trying to keep from drawing too much attention to themselves by breaking up our group.

Ranger leaned down and asked, "Do you want to dance?"

I couldn't stop myself from smiling. "I don't really know any Highland reels."

He tightened his grip on my hand and said, "Don't judge me by the skirt I'm wearing." How he managed to say it with a straight face, I'd never know.

"All right," I agreed, letting him lead me into the group of costumes on the dance floor. "As long as you remember that while I might be armed more than ever before, I still hate using a gun, so don't expect me to be of much use if somebody decides to attack the party."

This time, he did smile. "Good, because if my memory serves me correctly, men who sleep with the Black Widow don't usually make it out alive, so I'm glad to know you haven't taken the whole character to heart."

When he pulled me to him, I remembered him writing to me that he liked to dance. It only took a few beats of the jazz filling the hall for him to prove why he would enjoy it. Ranger had moves that topped even the ones I'd met with Hector at the club.

I'd enjoyed my night out with Hector because I didn't have to worry about how he was interpreting my movements against him, and I could just enjoy the music. But with Ranger, I couldn't focus on anything except how his body was moving against mine, and every movement that pulled us apart or brought us back together set off a series of sparks in me that I briefly worried might lead to a grand finale on the dance floor that would be fodder for the 'Burg grapevine for months.

We danced to three songs before Ranger suggested we get something to drink. He disappeared into the crowd, and before I could fully appreciate the look of him walking away, I heard someone call my name, forcing me to turn around once more.

"Stephanie, it's so good to see you." Up walked a smiling Cleopatra that I knew was really Mrs. Connelly.

We exchanged our pleasantries, and then she turned rather serious. "I'm sure my husband will find Ranger and drag him somewhere to talk business, so I figured I should find you early so that I had someone to keep me company while they're gone."

As much as I wanted to present the right customer service front for RangeMan, I couldn't help but feel disappointed at the thought of not being able to dance with Ranger more. On the flip side, I got to point out the guys we'd brought this evening, which meant our ability to operate under a cover was successful in her eyes. I even invited her to join me when our first check-in occurred.

Mrs. Connelly was silent as each of the guys gave a report and seemed fascinated by Hector's report that he'd found a waiter who had lifted three wallets and had taken it upon himself to return the stolen goods. I knew she was under the impression that Hector had informed the men what had occurred and handed them their wallets. I had a feeling he had simply reversed the theft and put back the goods before the oblivious men even knew they were gone.

Before we broke up the meeting, Mrs. Connelly reached over and touched Hector's hand. I watched the guys bristle, probably worried at how he would react to being touched. "I loved West Side Story," she said, as though she believed his current gang outfit was an homage to the musical.

"Me, too," he replied, playing along and giving me a wink, as though he'd fully expected this kind of reaction. Perhaps his approach of hiding in plain sight was inspired. In a group like this, no one was going to be willing to prove their ignorance by admitting they had no clue why he was in those clothes. And since he was here, in spite of the hefty ticket price, most people would assume he was dressed that way only because of the theme, never guessing this was actually his true self. It was brilliant.

I caught a glimpse of Ranger surrounded by a few older-looking men in military uniforms and suits. I guessed they weren't as creative as my guys were in getting costumes for the event. Either that or their wives weren't convincing enough to force them into something more exciting. Eventually, Mrs. Connelly agreed that we were handling the event beautifully, keeping everyone safe and doing it in a way that was completely undetectable to attendees. I was convinced the night had been a professional success for RangeMan, which made me proud because I felt like I had finally done something to repay all the things Ranger had done for me.

Stella came over, and we spent a little time congratulating ourselves on introducing Bobby and Cal to a couple of girls we'd gone to school with. They'd both hit it off with the women we'd introduced them to, and after spending a little time discussing Hector, Stella was convinced the guy who handled the IT work for the library would be a great person for him, so I had convinced Hector to come by the library on Monday for a blind introduction.

At the three hour mark, Tank escorted a gentleman out who had taken advantage of the full service bar and gotten drunk and rowdy. He moved him out so quickly that few people even noticed the disturbance. After the head of the library's board announced the fundraiser had been the most successful ever, Mrs. Connelly and her husband came over to excuse themselves.

Mrs. Connelly handed me a card that she said held her cell phone number and told me to call her the next time I was in New York. "I think you are an extraordinary young woman, and I'd love to have time to talk to you further about the work you've done with the men at RangeMan. Anytime a woman can succeed in the work these men do, I'm interested in how she manages that."

I assured her she would hear from me and held onto the card.

The man she introduced as her husband shook my free hand and nodded in Ranger's direction. "It's nice to meet the woman who helped this guy to settle down. I never thought I'd see the day when he'd be the one wearing the skirt and his woman would be the one carrying the guns. But I can see it works for you two, so enjoy the rest of your evening."

I barely had a chance to pretend to laugh at his comment before he took his wife's hand and informed her he was ready to call it a night.

Ranger came over to me and pulled my back to his chest, giving me an excuse to lean against him while he whispered in my ear. "Babe, you're going to owe me big time for the laughing my occasional employers have done because of me in a kilt."

I spun around and said, "I believe you picked this costume all on your own. You could have taken the easy way out and dressed in a tux like Hal."

He nipped at my ear before reminding me, "I don't take the easy way. You should know by now that if I'm going to do anything, I'm going to do it as well as it can be done."

I shivered at the realization that I did know that to be true, and the exhaustion I went to sleep with every night was all the evidence I needed to agree with his comment.

Before I could agree with what he'd said, Ranger's hands tightened around my hips. "Don't move," he warned, make me want to turn around more than if he'd said nothing.

"What's going on?" I asked, hoping he wouldn't pick this moment to clam back up and turn into all-business Ranger.

"There's a guy across the room that RangeMan has the papers to pick up," he explained.

"For Vinnie?" I asked, wondering why Ranger was being so vague about a skip. We discussed our files pretty regularly, so I didn't see why this one was so special.

"No," Ranger said, catching onto my internal confusion. "For Homeland Security. It's a shame the Connellys have already left, or he could get a reminder about why he insists on using us for these kinds of pickups.

"Do you have a way to reach them?" he asked, lifting his chin in what I assumed was some kind of subtle RangeMan silent communication movement. That point was driven home when Tank, Bobby, and Lester seemed to instantly materialize around me.

"I have her cell phone number," I said, still holding the card she'd given me because there certainly weren't any pockets in this outfit for me to stick it in, even if there had been enough room to slide a slim piece of paper.

Ranger handed me a cell phone that he'd hidden somewhere in the folds of his outfit, and I immediately began dialing. Fortunately, Mrs. Connelly answered on the second ring, and I asked if her husband was with her. She handed the phone to him, and I gave Ranger's cell back to him.

"Colonel," Ranger said in his all-business mode. "I have eyes on Matheson at the fundraiser. Do you want us to pick him up tonight or wait for another opportunity?" He hung up without saying another word, but I decided this probably wasn't the right time for a lecture on phone etiquette.

At some point during the conversation, the rest of the guys had gathered around us, and Ranger led the world's shortest briefing. "The pilot at the bar is Matheson, one of Homeland pickups. We need to get him out quietly tonight. Any ideas?"

I had tons of questions – who was he, what was he wanted for, and was there any danger to the other people at the gala if he realized we were after him among others – but I noticed he hadn't asked if there were any questions. He just wanted pickup ideas.

Lester produced the default RangeMan idea in this situation. "Can Beautiful get him out so we can cart him off?"

This wasn't my standard distraction wear, but Ranger seemed to like it, so maybe it would work if I could get enough swing in my hips.

Ranger's hands tightened on me, and he said, "Any other ideas?"

I wasn't sure what to make of that. Was he implying that was a bad idea, one he didn't want to use, or was there a risk to trying it here? A ball like this actually seemed like the ideal place to do a distraction because it would allow me to get him out without endangering any of the patrons at the party.

Unable to hold back during the silence from the guys that proved there were no better suggestions, I asked, "What's wrong with me trying to lure him out?"

"Too many unknowns," Ranger said softly.

Bobby spoke up next. "I could go secure the bar, and there's a redhead at the end that Les could chat up. There are only two exits, and between all of us, we could easily secure them all, leaving you as her direct backup. We can handle containment," he pointed out, making me wonder what Ranger's real concern was.

He didn't reply to Bobby's suggestion, giving me the courage to wager a guess. "Are you saying no because there is a logistical reason the guys aren't aware of or because of something more personal?"

Suddenly, the walls of the room became much more entertaining for the other guys, and they all but turned their backs on us to create the illusion of privacy.

"Babe," Ranger began, but he stopped before sharing anything more useful.

"We're not going back to the one word answers," I warned him. "Because if that Babe means don't do this because I'm afraid you'll get hurt, then I'm going to need to know what's different about this situation than all the other bars you've dressed me up and paraded me through."

He grimaced, as though my description was hard to swallow. It may have been crude, but from my point of view, it's exactly what happened.

"That was before," he said, not disagreeing with my take on a distraction.

"Before what?" I was confused now and hated that he seemed to have come down with sudden onset shyness syndrome.

He looked at the floor, making me wonder why he was tongue tied for the first time since I'd known him. Then it hit me what he was trying to do.

"Look me in the eye, and tell me you aren't trying to keep me from doing my job because you feel the need to protect me just because we're together."

Ranger was definitely willing to look me in the eye, but he had no words, which told me I'd hit the nail on my first guess.

"Don't do this," I warned him. "Don't try to hold me back when you have been the only person to ever help me fly."

"I want you to fly, and normally, I'd be the one suggesting you do this, but now that we're together and I know what it's like, I'm finding it a little harder to throw you out there like that," he confessed, not sounding pleased with himself but not willing to lie to me, either.

"You aren't throwing me out there. I'm volunteering." I decided to shift my tactics a little. "Are you telling me that since we're a couple, I can no longer make my own work decisions?"

"No, you know I'm not going to control you like that," he disagreed, exactly the way I'd known he would.

"Do you not trust the guys here?" I continued. "Would you rather we have different backup?"

"You know these are the men I trust the most." He stepped completely into my web, and I found I was really digging the whole Black Widow comparison.

"Then get out of my way and let me do what I'm good at," I instructed. "Because then you'll have a capture you need to make, and you'll get to take advantage of the adrenaline rush I always get after these things."

"Sometimes it's an adrenaline crash," he pointed out, making a valid point.

"That only happens when it goes to hell," I attempted to disagree. "So, if you want the good kind, you need to make sure that doesn't happen."

"How do you suggest I do that?" He was attempting to keep his voice light, but his eyes proved he was earnest in the question.

"Weren't you the one bragging a few minutes ago that if you were going to do something, you were going to do it as well as it could possibly be done?" I reminded him.

"Sure, but I'm not seeing how my skills in the bedroom relate to a botched takedown," he replied, picking up a little of his previous bravado.

I took a small step back and looked him over before saying, "Aren't you an immortal warrior that's never been defeated?" I didn't have an answer to his question, so I decided to try to take the fight out of him by teasing him about his costume once more.

"Except for the immortal part, the rest is true," he said with more swagger.

"Then watch my back, and if something goes to hell, I'm trusting that the sword at your waist is for more than just show," I explained.

"The sword can definitely cut more than just butter, but the Glock at my back is probably what I'd go to first," he said, somehow finding the strength to step back and let me do what he knew in his head was the right thing.

Ranger nodded at Bobby and Lester, who took off. Hal and Cal moved to the front door, and Tank and Hector slipped off to the side door. Vince moved to a table near the bar, easily within listening distance of where I'd need to be for this distraction to work.

After all the guys had left, I asked, "Anything special I need to look out for?"

He seemed to consider my question for a moment before saying, "There's not really a term for what he's suspected of doing, but spy comes close. We don't know what he's capable of because no one has come close to bringing him in. That means the potential for disaster is huge because there is too much unknown and the potential for a very desperate man." As he spoke, I began to lose some of my previous confidence, but Ranger seemed to be regaining his. "If you go over there and work this costume, I have no doubt he'll follow you anywhere."

I winked at him and put a hand on my hip. "Wish me luck."

"Go get 'em, tiger," he said, giving me a line that had preceded me into many of my distractions.

If I'd ever doubted the fact that Ranger and I belonged together, the exchange we'd just gotten through would have convinced me. Not only did neither of us lose our cool and begin yelling, but I had stood up for myself and he'd supported me in the exact way I needed. In the end, I was left feeling like Ranger loved me enough that he didn't want to risk losing me, and he was smart enough to recognize the risk of losing me was greater if he attempted to control me than if a skip went nuts and hurt me.

Realizing I needed to return his ability to step outside his comfort zone, I said, "The guns at my hips don't have bullets."

He looked confused about why I was sharing that detail but shook it off and channeled his Wild West cowboy by talking a gun from the holster at my right and replacing it with a gun that had previously been hidden on him somewhere. Honestly, his costume didn't have any pockets... How he could have so much gear tucked away?

"Nobody that wears my name is allowed to go out shooting only blanks," he quipped, nearly making me laugh.

That comment was so loaded, I didn't dare touch it. Instead, I spun around and sashayed away to the bar. Matheson was already riding a pretty good buzz when I got there, based on his slurred speech while asking the bartender for another shot. I ordered what the bartender had refused to serve him and caught his eye when the glass full of amber-colored liquid was placed in front of me. There was no way I was going to down this booze and risk losing my head, so I lifted it and took a deep breath, as though trying to get my courage up to drink it.

As I'd hoped, Matheson interrupted and said, "Are you going to down it or absorb it by osmosis?" Then he did the drunken man chuckle that proved just how far gone he was.

"I hate drinking, but I don't have another option if I'm going to redeem this night," I said, setting the shot glass down.

"Why does it need redeeming?" he wondered, focusing on me and abandoning his attempt to scan the room for threats.

"My date was called away for work reasons, so the sure thing I got dressed up for has left me. And since an orgasm is obviously now out of the question, I guess the only hope of fun left is to get drunk. But I hate hangovers, so I was trying to convince myself that the pain tomorrow would be worth it." I gave him a rambling answer, figuring he'd stopped listening when I said orgasm anyway.

"So you're considering drinking, but all you really want is sex?" he attempted to sum up my position.

"No, what I really want is hard, fast sex with no attachments and no questions," I added, knowing there were few men who could resist that.

"Either chug that shot or hand it to me, because your night is about to get better," he said, sounding a little more sober all of a sudden.

I slid the glass to him and attempted to raise an eyebrow at his direction. After the glass slammed down, he stood up and held out his hand. I let him lead me to the front door, sorry that we weren't heading to Tank but knowing Hal and Cal were more than capable of handling the situation. I was surprised when they didn't jump out as soon as we passed the doorway but then realized there was a small crowd there.

"My car is this way," I announced when I saw the guys near a tree in the parking lot.

He foolishly allowed me to lead him straight to the men waiting, who then stepped behind us and subdued him effortlessly. He struggled briefly but was no match for them, especially once they got the cuffs on him and pulled a single gun off him in a pat down. I wasn't sure what he was wanted for, but something told me it was more for what he _knew_ than what he _could do_ because he was clearly not well prepared to fight for his life.

Ranger basically materialized and swept me away while the guys led Matheson off to whatever fate the government had for him. "For the record, my work is over, so that sure thing you spoke about at the bar is still possible."

"Then let's go home," I suggested, leaning in to kiss him and loving the fact that he let me. There was a freedom in being with Ranger because I realized he was willing to give me anything I wanted, and if I wanted to kiss him in public after a successful takedown, then he wasn't going to stop me. When we pulled apart, the Connellys were there, looking at us and smiling.

The Colonel was shaking his head and said only, "You handled this well. Thank you for bringing him in for us and for letting me see the Bombshell in action. It's easy to see why your men all insisted you belonged together."

It seemed odd to hear an older gentleman gushing about Ranger and me belonging together.

Then his wife spoke up and said, "Don't be so surprised, dear. Our men may be soldiers, but they aren't heartless. I think the amount of time they spend fighting makes them even greater catches because they fight for everything they want – us included."

That summed it up really well. Ranger had fought for me, and for the first time, I recognized it. First, he fought Morelli – maybe not directly, but by showing me that I had other options and supporting me even though I technically belonged to another man. Then he fought me and tried to help me develop the skills I needed to do the job I claimed to want to do. And now he was willing to fight himself to step outside his comfort zone in order to let me fly, even when it scared him with the possibilities of what could happen. I didn't even need to think about the literal people he'd fought on my behalf. Abruzzi was all it took to remind me that he would stop at nothing to keep me safe.

This may have begun as a simple training exercise that I felt vastly under qualified for, but it had ended as so much more. It ended with me feeling more confident in my abilities and finally understanding it was possible to be yourself and love someone at the same time.

It was that euphoric feeling that caused me to push up slightly and whisper, "Let's go home..."

Ranger let out a sound of agreement that let me know he was more than willing to take me anywhere I wanted to go.

Before we moved, I decided to taunt him a little more. "...because I think tonight officially ends my contract with RangeMan, and I believe we have the matter of my final payment still left to be satisfied."

"Babe," he said, not able to say anything else since I began to walk away, leading the way to the SUV that we'd ridden here in. I knew he would make me pay for teasing him like that, but there were some debts I didn't mind working off.

_A/N: I feel the need to warn everyone that tomorrow's chapter will be the final update to this story. Stephanie has done everything Ranger challenged her to, so we've nearly come to the end of this journey._


	20. Paid in Full

_JE created the characters below and I took them and ran._

_Jenny (JenRar) thank you for the hours you spent working on this story as the beta. You have amazing skills and I count myself truly lucky to be able to work with you. _

**Chapter 20 – Paid in Full**

I loved it when Ranger woke me up in the morning. Especially on days like this Sunday, when he'd gotten up and completed his usual sunrise workout and then showered and climbed back in bed with me for a nap. That gave us another couple of hours before he finally decided he'd wasted enough hours of daylight and gently attempted to rouse me into the land of the living.

Our triumph at the party last night had caused us to spend several hours celebrating when we got back to Haywood. Instead of champagne and noise makers, we'd locked ourselves in the seventh floor apartment and made a certain amount of noise of our own. I was exhausted, and even though the trail of soft kisses he was making down the center of my back felt heavenly, I was still reluctant to open my eyes. I guess he picked up on my hesitation to get up because he decided to up the ante.

"Come on, Babe. The sooner you wake up, the sooner you can get a look at the final installment of your payment for the work you've done," he bribed me, ensuring I would wake up after dangling that in front of me as bait.

"I'm awake," I grumbled, throwing an arm behind me with my palm open as though I expected him to put a credit card in my hand.

"Barely," he argued. "I'm not handing anything over until you're out of bed."

By sheer force of will, I managed to get myself standing and slowly stumbled my way into the bathroom. The temptation was to brush my teeth and then rush back out to get a look at the identities he had for himself, but I decided that I'd enjoy it more if I was fully alert, so I jumped in the shower, hoping the warm water would take away a little of the soreness I was feeling from last night's activities. Ranger was always thorough, but last night, he was riding a certain high, feeling like he'd restored his good name, and there were times it was all I could do to just hang on and enjoy the ride.

It didn't take long before I thought I could be considered a part of the land of the living. I shut off the water and dried off before slipping on Ranger's robe from the back of the door and brushing through my hair just enough to bring it from the edge of the Bride of Frankenstein look I had been sporting.

The smell of coffee was already floating in the kitchen, and when I walked in, Ranger turned around and handed me a cup with two sugars and a healthy amount of cream. It was perfect, and after a couple of sips, I started to feel as though getting up at the bright and early hour of nine o'clock might be okay.

When Ranger moved to sit on the couch, I brought my coffee and followed along, sitting next to him and propping my feet up on the coffee table.

"Nice robe," he said, pointing out that I was wearing his clothes.

The temptation to stick my tongue out was strong, but I resisted in order to remind him, "I don't have my closet here to pick out clothes, so I had to go with what was handy." He nodded, as though that made perfect sense, so I added, "Plus, if you don't show me what I want, then I want to see just how convincing me in a robe can be."

He laughed at my reminder of his comment that he wasn't sure if he'd spill his secrets quicker from tequila or me in a robe, but the combination of both might get just about anything I was after.

"You know me well enough that I'll show you what we agreed upon." Always the practical one, he brought me back to reality and the fact that we'd agreed he would show me two of his identities when I finished the assignment.

"I'm doing this on good faith, even though you haven't typed up your report from last night. I trust that even though you've been paid in full, we'll still get that final training log from you." He was trying to look stern, but the fact that he was enjoying this little game was evident on his face. For a guy that would never admit to playing, he certainly seemed to enjoy teasing me.

My hands rubbed against each other in anticipation, and I nodded quickly that I'd do his paperwork later. Right now, I wanted to see what other names Ranger traveled under. Instead of giving me a large manila envelope like he had for my personas, he pulled out a black American Express card and handed it to me. The name on the front read Marc Pardo.

"I already knew about this one because you set me up as Stephanie Pardo," I told him, feeling a little cheated by the fact that he'd technically fulfilled his end of the bargain because we'd never specified they had to be new names. I hadn't considered the loopholes in our agreement.

"When I'm not traveling under my real name, this is the alias I use most often," he told me, apparently willing to ignore my outburst. I guess that was something I didn't know already.

Then he handed me a second card that had the name Carlos Ricardo on it. "This is just your name switched around," I pointed out with my grasp on the incredibly obvious.

"Yes, but part of setting up a good cover is ensuring it's one you can respond to all the time. By keeping an identity that is basically a deviation of my real name, it increases the likelihood that I could maintain it with little time to prepare," he explained. I hadn't considered it that way, but it did make sense.

I couldn't help but feel disappointed that our agreement was now over. I'd actually enjoyed seeing my packages more than hearing about his possible escape names, but at least he'd explained the method behind the covers he used. Before I could get lost wallowing in the idea that we were done, he spoke once more.

"You actually did more than I expected you to, because in addition to challenging all the guys, you managed to slip in some work for me, as well, and then came to New York to follow up on it. I hadn't expected you to be as thorough as you were, so I feel like you're due a small bonus of some sort."

I was about to jump in and tell him he wasn't going to give me a penny more than he already had for what I'd done with the guys. Except for having to complete a written report, it was almost like getting paid to play, so I felt guilty enough for what he'd deposited into my account as it was.

Fortunately, I didn't get any of it out because he reached behind him and produced an envelope like the ones that had contained my cards that he'd shared earlier. I took it when he held it toward me, but he placed his hand on top of mine to keep me from opening it quickly.

"I had this one made about forty-eight hours after DeChooch." As he confessed, he held my eye for a moment, letting me know that in reality, he had it made after we had sex the first time. "When I walked into your apartment that night, I had all the swagger of an idiot who was used to having anything he planned work out in his favor. I assumed if we slept together, it would help us to manage the attraction better. It wasn't until I actually spoke the words aloud and told you that you should patch things up with Morelli that I realized I was a complete idiot."

"Why did you do that?" I wondered, suddenly not as interested in the package in my hands.

"I knew I would be called away soon for my contract, and it didn't make sense to have you waiting for me when there was a decent man ready to commit his life to you," he explained, looking down at our hands.

"But it didn't work out the way you planned it?" I pushed, wondering what part of his plan had failed in his eyes.

He laughed a little, but he didn't really sound amused. "No, it didn't. You and the cop got back together, and a little less than a year later, I found myself on assignment with Hector in a dingy bar in the bowels of Mexico City, splitting a bottle of homemade tequila. When I woke up the next morning, I had a raging hangover and no memory of the night before. Hector refused to talk to me for three days. He was never the most talkative, but this was well beyond just being quiet. After we got back to Trenton, he told me if I ever wanted him to go on assignment with me again, I'd better find a way to fix things between you and me. I was clueless what he meant, and the only clarifying clue he'd drop was that the little worm helped me talk, and he wasn't thrilled with what I'd said."

"You don't know what you told him?" I asked, trying to picture Ranger so drunk that he wouldn't remember what he'd said. I couldn't make the image of the man beside me now match the picture he was painting of himself in that bar with Hector.

"No," Ranger answered. "After a distraction one night, he rode back to Haywood with me and said that after hearing the whole story of you and me, he was convinced the only reason you were with the cop was because I'd told you to do it. He's never liked Morelli as anything more than a good view at a crime scene, and he hated the two of you together. So he didn't hold back in telling me it was my responsibility to fix it."

"What happened next?" I asked, feeling like this story had more to it.

"Scrog," That one word said it all. "Most of my justifications for us not being together had already been knocked down, but I'd been holding onto the fact that if we were in a relationship, my enemies would target you if we were together. Then an enemy targeted you anyway, so my nightmare was coming true, and I didn't have any of the benefit of having you close to me. I knew I either needed to move to Miami and make a clean break or give up the pretense and start letting you in my life little by little."

"Didn't you go to Miami right after you healed enough to travel?" I asked, trying to keep my mind from picturing him on my apartment floor with the blood pooling around him. Hyperventilating might not be the best idea if I wanted to keep this conversation moving.

"I did, but it took me about two days to realize that I'd made the wrong decision, so I came back and tried to spend more time with you," he replied, stroking the top of my hand in a comforting way.

He coughed before speaking again, almost as though he were nervous. "You and the cop were back and forth so much, I couldn't keep up, so I just tried to be consistent and give you what you needed without pushing for more than you seemed willing to give."

A laugh escaped my lips at that. "My memory is that you tried pushing the limit of what I was willing to give a few times."

"You were warned early on that I was an opportunist," he reminded me. "I may have pushed, but the first hint of you being uncomfortable would have made me back down in a hurry. I'd never force you."

"No..." I had to be sure he knew I agreed with him. "You'd never force me."

"After Hawaii, I pulled out the credit card I'd ordered after DeChooch and had a full alias developed around it – driver's license, social security card, marriage certificate, power of attorney forms, and passport."

The mention of a marriage certificate made me a little nervous. "It's not real, is it?"

"No, they're all forgeries," he admitted. "Damn good ones, but fake just the same. They'd easily get you out of the country, but they'd never hold up in a court of law."

Hearing that helped me to stop the panic I'd been feeling, so I squeezed his hand, which had stilled on top of mine, and then lifted the envelope to ask if I could open it now.

"Go ahead," he replied, his blank face slipping on and covering up what had been about as close to a nervous expression as I'd ever seen on him. I would have fussed at him for covering up what he was feeling, but I got the impression it was a habit and in this case, he wasn't even aware of doing it.

The paper tore beneath my hands easily, but it sounded as though it made twice the noise any of the other envelopes had made. It was like the contents of this package were more important and therefore deserved a greater announcement of their unveiling.

Deciding to just jump in, I dumped out everything into my lap and picked up the credit card, not the least bit surprised to see it was for Stephanie P. Manoso. All the other documents proclaimed me to be the wife of Ricardo Carlos Manoso. I was glad that he'd already told me nothing in my hands was real because it certainly looked convincing enough to make me glance at my left hand to be sure it was still empty.

"So this is the one you didn't want to share?" I asked.

"You've been pretty clear that marriage wasn't something you wanted," he replied. "I knew that pressure from Morelli was never well received, and I didn't want to screw things up between us now that we were together."

"But you wanted to show me," I pointed out. "Is this something you think about?" I lifted the marriage certificate as explanation for what I meant.

"Not often, but sometimes, yeah, I can see it," he leveled with me. "Are you saying it's never crossed your mind?"

Full disclosure was a lot harder in person that it was when we were typing notes back and forth, pushing each other out of our respective comfort zones. "A month ago, I would have said no."

"What about now?" He was searching for more, but it was being done with such vulnerability on his part that I couldn't stop myself from answering.

"I've thought about it more this past week than the last six months combined," I replied.

"What about marriage has been on your mind?"

I was beginning to regret answering that last question if it meant I had to offer more details.

"What it would be like to have everything settled. No question of where I'd be sleeping or where my extra clothes would be stored. How it would feel to not have to cringe when my mother suggests I'm not getting any younger. If I could stick my hand out when meeting a client and introduce myself as your wife and partner instead of just a woman who runs searches and sleeps with you."

"For future reference, I think you should leave off the sleeping with me part if you're meeting clients, and you are way more than just a woman who runs searches," he interrupted.

Deciding to give him a taste of how hard it was to open up on this subject, I turned his question around. "When you see marriage how does it look?"

"Easy," he replied. "It looks like this, only with a little more jewelry and legal joint ownership of that robe. I always said marriage wasn't important because it was the relationship that mattered, but now that I've got the relationship, I guess I'm getting greedy because I want more."

"You're not greedy," I corrected him, "because I feel the same way. The thing that scared the shit out of me a year ago makes more sense now that I'm picturing it with the right guy. It's not something I want to run away from anymore."

"But would you run to it?" he wondered.

"I'd run to you," I admitted, knowing it was true.

Ranger reached in his pocket and pulled out a little black box, lifting the lid and showing me the most exquisite diamond ring, big enough to sparkle but not so big that it was ostentatious. The sapphire baguettes on either side set it off perfectly and took my breath away. "Would you run to this?" he asked.

I shook my head no and watched the hurt come over his face. "I'd run to you," I repeated, hoping he could grasp what I was trying to tell him. "Not a ring or a cushy apartment – you. Is there a different question you want to ask?"

I couldn't tell if he was proposing or just testing the water to see if I'd accept if he ever decided marriage was the right step, but I wasn't going to guess and embarrass myself on something this important.

He paused and looked at his hand, holding the ring which was so beautifully framed in black velvet. I found myself staring at it and hoping he would keep talking instead of shutting the box.

My focus had been so intent on willing him to keep the lid up that I didn't notice he had reached over with his free hand to pick up the pile of documents in my lap until I felt them move.

With nothing between us, he slid off the edge of the couch so that he was on a single knee and asked, "Stephanie, will you marry me?"

Usually, the sound of my name on his lips put me on edge, but today, it was like music. A month ago, I never would have thought this was possible, assuming Ranger was never going to be available for a relationship and finally having admitted to myself that I would only be happy with him. Now, with the man of my dreams on his knee in front of me, I felt like every hope for the future was being fulfilled – even the ones I didn't realize I'd been holding.

"Yes," I whispered, moving my legs so that I could lean toward him.

He met me halfway, more symbolic than my mind could comprehend at the moment, and proceeded to kiss me. My body, which had been convinced an hour ago that it needed the day off to recuperate, decided that now was the right moment to heat up and start begging for attention.

If I thought the kiss in his New York office was different from all the stolen lip locks we'd shared, then the kiss between us now that he'd made it clear he wanted me in a real relationship, publically acknowledged, forever, was taking it up another notch. I honestly didn't think there was room for improvement, but the man of mystery had proven me wrong once again. By the time we pulled apart, my lips were tingling, and I'd forgotten completely about the box still in his hand.

Ranger pulled back just enough to slip the ring from its holder and slide it onto my finger. He moved the ring a little to help the light reflect in the diamond and then leaned forward and kissed my hand. He put his head in my lap and held my hand tightly in his. As much as I wanted to see his face and get back to what we'd started with the kissing, I felt like he needed this. I knew there was an overwhelming feeling to what we'd just agreed to, and it seemed like he needed a minute to process what happened. So I ran my free hand up and down his back, trying to comfort him and assure him I was here and I wasn't going anywhere. For a man who hid most of emotions, I took it as quite the compliment that he was so overcome that he had to take a minute to process what just happened, and the best place for him to do that was cuddled up to me.

When he lifted his head and looked me in the eye, I drew in a quick breath. The love pouring from him had never been so evident as it was in this moment. The blank face he'd attempted to hide behind earlier was nowhere to be found. I knew there would be times when he'd have to cover this up, so I tried to memorize everything about his face so I could remember how it felt when he looked at me with unveiled adoration. No matter what happened between us in the future, I knew the memory of this moment would sustain me through it.

Ever so slowly, he moved back to join our lips once more. In the back of my mind, it registered that neither of us had spoken in at least fifteen minutes, which seemed odd right after getting engaged. Most people probably began planning and rambling right away, but the silence was comforting and seemed to sum up what we shared much better than any words we might try to use.

Lost in the sensation of kissing him, I think he had to say my name twice before I realized he was trying to pull back slightly. I refused to release my grip on his neck, so he had to speak still close enough for our noses to touch. "Do you want to tell anyone?"

"Yes," I replied, moving to close the gap and kiss him again. I'd never had what I'd admit to as an addiction, but I could see now why addicts were so jumpy. The idea of Ranger trying to pull away from me had me desperate to keep us attached.

A warm, low laugh filled the air before he asked, "Today?"

"Sure," I answered, more out of habit than a well-formulated plan.

He allowed me to pull him back to me again. I thought he'd gotten the message that I was done talking when he moved his arms under my knees and behind my back and then stood, cradling me to his chest and moving us both to the bedroom.

"Yes," I said, hoping he understood I was completely on board with his plan to move what we were doing to the comfort of his satiny sheets.

He laughed again, which wasn't the response I was hoping for, before explaining, "I figured we both needed this to believe it was real so we may as well give in so that we can accept it and then figure out how to share it."

He set me on the mattress, and I motioned impatiently for him to join me. "Don't care why. Just get down here," I commanded.

"Oh man, are you telling me you're going to be one of those demanding wives?" he pretended to complain. I couldn't help but notice he also did exactly what I'd asked, so I wasn't going to hold it against him.

"Not in general," I attempted to assure him. "But I might be in the bedroom."

That earned me a growl and a soft nip on my neck. "I think I can live up to that."

"Are you sure?" I decided to tease him. "Most of the guys thought training with me would be easy, and every one of them fell short in some way so that they needed extra work to meet my expectations. Are you sure you can live up to my demands?"

Ranger pulled back enough for me to see his sexy smirk before replying. "There's a reason those men work _for_ me and I'm in charge."

"Really?" I played along, letting my head fall back in the hope that he'd move his mouth to the front of my neck.

"I know when to take charge and when it's time to bow to a higher authority," he explained. "I might be able to literally sweep you off your feet, but I'm smart enough to recognize that you have the power to tell me where to take you after that. So, if you have a demand you want to make, I'm all ears. In the meantime…" His voice drifted away as he loosened the tie of my robe and opened it to see me lying naked beneath him.

The little voice in the back of my mind was yelling that now would be a good time to make a snappy comeback. To remind him that he'd just said he'd listen to any demand I wanted to make. But the louder voice seemed to be the one screaming for him to lower his head just another inch. He must have locked into that voice with his ESP because the second his lips touched my nipple, I could swear all the sounds in my head were silent. There was nothing rattling around, no stage directions, no desires for his next move...just me, completely open to anything he wanted to give me. And lucky for me, Ranger was feeling very generous.

A month ago, Ranger had come to me in need of help training his men and helping to clear his name with a client. I hadn't thought I was really qualified for the job, but I'd refused to turn him down when he'd asked for my help, so I'd tried to rise to the occasion. Then I'd realized that was nothing new for us. By seeing only the best in me, he had helped me to rise to the occasion more than once, and I hoped I had done the same for him. It was like a kid being able to behave so much better in December because they were living under the notion that Santa Claus was watching them so they make the best choices of how to act. The idea that Ranger might see what I was doing hadn't intimidated me; it had allowed me to make better choices and be that better version of myself. I'd like to think that by believing in him, I had done the same thing for him, as well.

Ranger laced our fingers together, and I could feel the ring on my finger pressing into my hand. It wasn't uncomfortable, but it felt different enough that I noticed it. That was all it took to remind me that I had promised to marry the man making my hormones dance with excitement. The panic I always thought would come with an idea like that was blissfully absent. In its place was a warm feeling that this was right. This man, this place, this company – this life was right for me.

As much as the eight weeks might have been about training the guys to open their eyes to a different way of doing things, I believed it might have taught me a thing or two, as well. I was a part of this company, even if I didn't have an official title. The guys listened to me and believed in me enough to follow my directions. And this man believed in me enough to make a place for me in his heart. I knew we both had a lot to learn about how to make a relationship – and a marriage – work. But together, I figured we'd be able to handle the real-life training days and come out even stronger for it.

_A/N: I hate this part, where I'm at the end of another story, and even though I feel like it's complete, I'm still reluctant to say goodbye to the characters. Thank you so much for reading along with Stephanie and Ranger's latest adventure. Your reviews and kind words along the way kept me typing along. Knowing there were people with me made the journey that much more fun._

_As usual, I plan on taking a couple of weeks to clear my head before jumping into something new. However, my family is taking its usual two week vacation at the start of next month, so I won't attempt to begin a new story until after we return. My guess is I'll be back sometime around the last week of August with a new story. After such a long break, I hope you'll come along for the ride. Thank you once again, and have a wonderful summer!_


End file.
